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MEMOIRS 

OF 

THE LIFE 

OF 

THE ELDER 

SCTPIO AFRICANUS; 

WITH 

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 

BY 

THE REV. EDWARD BERWICK. 

\l 


Scipio Africanus superior, queui dii immortales nasci voluerunt, ut esset in 
quo se virtus per omnes numeios hominibus efficaciler ostenderet. 

VALERIUS MAXIMUS. 



PRINTED FOR ROBERT TRIPHOOK, OLD BOND-STREET; 
AND HODGES AND M e ARTHUR, DUBLIN ; 

By B. M‘Millau, Bow-Street, Coveut-Garden. 


1817 












TO 


THE RIGHT- HONOURABLE 

HENRY GRATTAN, 

AS A SMALL, BUT SINCERE TRIBUTE OF 
ESTEEM AND GRATITUDE, 

THIS LIFE 

OF 

SCIPIO AFRICANUS, 

IS HUMBLY DEDICATED, 

BY HIS ATTACHED FRIEND, 

« 

AND DEVOTED HUMBLE SERVANT, 

EDWARD BERWICK. 


JRsker , July, 1817, 























t 
























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ADVERTISEMENT. 


There have been several Lives composed of 
Scipio Africanus the Elder by ancient writers, of 
which no fragments now remain. Aldus Gellius 
mentions the names of two of them, Caius Oppius, 
and Julius Hyginus, who lived in the reign of Au¬ 
gustus. The loss of the Life of Scipio, supposed to 
be written by Plutarch, is the one principally to be 
regretted. Of his modern Biographers, one wrote 
in Latin, and the other in French. The name of 
the first is Donoto Accioli, a Florentine, who flou¬ 
rished in the fifteenth century: his Life of Scipio 
was translated into French by Charles de l’Escluse, 
and from French into English by Sir Thomas North, 
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The name of the 
French Biographer is the Abb6 Seran de la Tour, 
who wrote about the middle of the last century. 
His Life was translated into English by the Rev. 
Richard Parry, in the year 1787. It may excite 
some surprise, that no historical memorial of such 
an illustrious man was ever undertaken by an Eng¬ 
lish writer, except a very abridged one by a Mr. 
Smith of Preston, in the year 1713. Whether the 
following Sketch, which is now humbly offered to 

b 



VI 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


the Public, agreeably to promise, does sufficient 
justice to his character, must be left to the judg¬ 
ment of the candid reader. 

Dr. Warburton observed with some justness of 
wit, that Mallet, in his Life of Bacon, had for¬ 
gotten that he was a philosopher. If a like obser¬ 
vation should be applied to the Editor of the present 
Life, that he has forgotten that Scipio was a gene¬ 
ral, he must bow with submission, as the battle of 
Zama alone has obtained a place in the following 
compilation; Scipio being, in his mind, much more 
interesting in his civil, than military capacity, though 
in the latter he outstripped the greatest captain that 
ever lived. 

The Editor intends, should the present account 
of Scipio receive the approbation of the public, 
to give an Historical Sketch of such other branches 
of that Noble Family, as induced the historian of 
the Roman Empire to denominate Italy the country 
of the Scipios. A Pedigree of the Family will be 
given, to illustrate the whole. 


MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE 


OF 

SCIPIO AFRICANUS. 


Clarorum virorutn atque magnorum non minus otii, quam negotii ratio* 
nem exstare oportere. 



























■ 

' 

































/ , -i . • • * WR 




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MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE 

OF 

SCIPIO AFRICANUS. 


Publius Cornelius Scipio, distinguished 
from the great men of his family by the sir- 
name of Africanus, was the son of Publius Cor¬ 
nelius Scipio, and born in Rome in the year of 
the city five hundred and seventeen * 1 . Of such 
particulars as may have attended his early life, 
history is silent: the name of his mother Pom- 
ponia is barely mentioned, but that of his pre¬ 
ceptor is not; consequently it is useless to form 
any conjectures relative either to the kind of 
education he received, or to the care and pains 
which were expended on it. We may naturally 
suppose he had the best masters to instruct him 

1 Auspicatius enecta parente gignuntur: sicut Scipio 
Africanus prior natus, priinusque Ccesarum a caeso matris 
utero dictus: quade causa etCaesones appellati.— Pliny, 

1. 7, c. 9. 

B 2 





4 


in whatever learning was then in fashion at 
Rome, as well as in the elements and general 
principles of the military profession. If he had 
not the properest masters provided for this pur¬ 
pose, he had at least in his own family, -his 
father and uncle, with whom he served his first 
campaign at the age of seventeen. Until that 
period, his name is not noticed in history, and 
at that time indeed he appears in a light, which 
claims our particular attention, and makes him 
an object of peculiar interest. He appears in 
the most arduous struggle which ever engaged 
two powerful nations; a struggle in which man¬ 
kind witnessed the most splendid display of 
heroic virtues ever exhibited to the world. For 
Rome, at that crisis, relying on the wisdom of 
her senate, the courage of her people, and the 
magnanimity of both, found resources in herself 
adequate to her situation, and rose from every 
defeat more glorious, and more formidable 2 . 

2 At Patres, quanquam exterrent immania ccepta, 

Tuque sinu bellum; atque Alpes, et pcrvia saxa 
Decepere: tamen crudam contra aspera mentem, 

Et magnos tollunt animos: juvat ire periclis 
Ad decus, et dextra memorandum condere nomen, 
Quale dedit nunquam rebus fortuna secundis. 

Silius Italicus, 1. 4, 1.3d. 



5 


Through wounds, through losses no decay can feel, 
Collecting strength and spirit from the steel 3 4 5 . 

At this premature age the young Scipio was 
placed by his father on a rising ground, with a 
few select attendants, near the river Ticinus, at 
the moment when the battle, which gives it 
celebrity, was fought on its banks 4 . During 
the engagement his father, who commanded the 
Roman legions, was severely wounded 5 , and 
appeared as if in danger of being surrounded by 
a large body of the enemy. The son, alarmed 
at what he beheld, called to his companions to 
run to his father’s assistance: for a time his 
young friends seemed to hesitate, on which the 
youth drove his horse with great impetuosity 
into the midst of the assailants 6 , and with the 


3 Per damna, per ccedes, ab ipso 
Dlicit opes, animumque ferro. 

Horace, Odes 1. 4, o. 4. 

4 Valerius Maximus.—L. 5, c. 4. 

5 llic, puer ut patrio defixuin corpore telum 
Conspexit, maduere genae, subitoque trementem 
Corripuit pallor, gemitumque ad sidera rupit. 

Sil. 1. 4, 1. 455. 

6 -Fertur per tela, per hostes 

Intrepidus puer, et Gradivum passibus sequat. 

Sinus, 1. 4, 1. 460. 




6 


assistance of those who were now ashamed not 
to follow-, rescued his father from most immi¬ 
nent danger 7 . 

i 

--At seventeen years, 

When Carthage made a head for Rome, he fought 

Beyond the mark of others 8 . 

The consul was the first to proclaim aloud 
that he owed his preservation to his son, and 
greeted him with the glorious title of Deliverer 9 . 
On returning to his camp, he ordered a civic- 
crown 10 to be presented to him, which was re¬ 
fused with this magnanimous declaration, “ that 
the action was one that rewarded itself.” 

-He rewards 

His deeds with doing them. 


7 Livy, 1. 21, c. 96. 

s Shakespeare. 

9 Caelius the historian, ascribes the honor of the con¬ 
sul’s preservation to a Ligurian slave; hut the report of 
one writer cannot prevail against a host of others. Now 
what does Polybius say? He asserts that be had the anec¬ 
dote from the mouth of Laslius. 

10 Civica Corona appeilatur, quam civis civi, a quo 
servatus est, in praelio testem vitas, salutisque perceptas 
dat.— Aulus Gellius. 





7 


It is on this occasion Pliny 1 makes the follow¬ 
ing judicious reflection, in application to the 
materials of that crown, which consisted only of 
a few oaken boughs. “ How incomparable the 
morality of those days, and justly deserving of 
immortality. How refined the wisdom of the 
men, who conferred no higher reward on noble 
exploits and distinguished worth, than honor 
alone; and inasmuch as all other military 
crowns are enriched and adorned with gold, 
our ancestors would not set the life of a citizen 

at any price : a plain proof of the excellency of 

« 

their feelings, who would have blushed at mix¬ 
ing views of interest with an action so natural, 
as that of one citizen saving the life of another.” 

The above amiable instance of filial affection, 
Polybius says 2 3 , he learned from the mouth of 
the elder Laclius, who was witness to all the 
words and actions of Scipio, from his childhood 
to his death. By such a display of virtuous 
magnanimity, Scipio acquired the reputation 
of a man, whose courage was undaunted, and 
whose conduct was guided in all his actions by 
good sense and prudence 5 . Such an action, 

1 Pliny, 1. 16, c. 4. 

4 Lib. 10. 

3 Avoir conservi toute la presence et la ferrnetb d’esprit 


* 



8 


with the circumstances attending it, was in it¬ 
self sufficient to excite the ambition, which a 
young Roman of high birth might feel, and one 
of such a nature as might encourage him to 
raise his hopes to the most glorious enterprises. 
It proved to Scipio an incentive to his seizing 
every opportunity that occurred, of displaying 
his zeal and courage in defence of his country. 
The next interesting situation in which we find 
our young hero placed, is that which imme¬ 
diately succeeded the battle of Cannje * * * 4 ; a si¬ 
tuation the most critical in the history of 
Rome, when the fates of the civilised world 
were suspended between two rival nations. 
Scipio was a legionary tribune on that unfor¬ 
tunate day; and when he found that the battle 
was lost, he withdrew the evening after it, 

necessaires, pour agir dans une rencontre si inopineh, et 
si malheureuse dans sa premiere campagne, et a l’ase de 

dix sept ans, si ce n’est pas la vraie valeur, j’avoue que 
je ne m’y connois pas.— L’Abce de Saint-Real, de la 

Valeur. 

4 Silius Italicus gives Scipio a share in the battle: 

His super, insidias contra, Nomadumque volucrem 
Scipiadae datur ire manum, quaeque arte, dolisque 
Scindent se turmae, praedicit spargere helium. 

Sil. i. 9, 1. 275. 



9 


with some young friends, to Canusium 5 , a town 
in the vicinity of Cannae, still adhering to the 
interest of the republic. At this important 
crisis he shewed what the patriotic zeal of a 
young Roman, governed by the prudence and 
steadiness of riper years, was able to accom¬ 
plish. All was dismay and confusion ; terror 
was painted in the countenances of both officers 
and men. At such a moment, all present with 
one voice chose him their captain, together with 
Appius Claudius, until they should be able to 
rejoin their superior officers. Whilst they were 
considering what was best to be done, Publius 

5 Canusium oppidum Apuli®, ubi suscepti Romani hos- 
pitio, fractis rebus. 

The picture of the distressed condition of the broken 
remains of the Roman army collected at Canusium, is 
veil pourtrayed by Silius Italicus in his tenth book : 

-Heu rebus facies inhonora sinistris. 

Non aquil®, non signa viris, non consulis ahum 
Imperium, non subnixae lictore secures. 

Trunca, atque aegra metu, ceu magna elisa ruina 
Corpora debilibus nituntur sistere membris. 

Clamor saspe repens, et s®pe silentia fixis 
In tellurem oculis; nud® plerisque sinistr® 

Detrito clypeo : desunt pugnacibus enses: 

Saucius omnis eques: galeis c.arpsere superbun), 
Gristarum decus, et damnarunt Martis honores. 


t 




10 


Furius Philus, the son of a consular man, came 
forward and said 6 , “ That it was in vain for 
them to cherish hopes which were now irre¬ 
trievable ; that the commonwealth was despaired 
of, and given up as lost; that several young 
men of the first families in Rome, at the head 
of whom was Lucius Cecilius Metellus 7 , were 
resolved to embark at the first port, and fly 
from Italy, to put themselves under the protec¬ 
tion of any king who would give them an asy¬ 
lum in his dominions.” This afflicting news, 
independent of the serious evil it carried along 
with it, succeeding so suddenly such a train of 
misfortunes, struck the meeting at once with 
affright and horror. All unanimously gave it 
as their opinion, that a council should be sum¬ 
moned to take into consideration the nature of 
the intelligence. Scipio, who was not more 
than nineteen years of age, whom the fates had 


6 Livy, 1. 22, c. 53. 

7 Dux crat ex illo collectis Marte Metellus, 

Sed stirpe baud parvi cognominis. Is mala bello 
Pectora, degeneremque manum ad deformia agebat 
Consulta; atque alio positas spectabat in orbe, 

Quis sese occulerent terras; quo noraina nulla 
Poenorum, aut patriae penetraret fama relictae. 

Sinus, 1. 10, 1. 420. 



11 


predestinated to be the great captain and con¬ 
ductor of this war, declared 8 , “ That the busi¬ 
ness demanded vigour and action, not delibera¬ 
tion ; that all who wished the preservation of 
the republic, should attend him armed, as they 
were; for, (said he), no place can with more 
truth be called the camp of the enemy, than 
that wherein such counsels are debated 9 .” Forth¬ 
with attended by a few, he burst like lightning 
into the chamber of Metellus, where finding 
the young patricians met in deep consultation, 
he drew his sword, and holding it over their 
heads as they sat, thus addressed them: “ I 
swear that I will never abandon the republic of 
the Roman people, nor suffer one of her citi¬ 
zens to desert it. If knowingly I break this 
oath, then do you, Jupiter, supremely good and 
great, overwhelm with ruin myself, my house, 
my family, and my fortune. I call on you, Me¬ 
tellus, I call on all who are present, to take the 
same oath. Whoever will not swear, let that 

8 u Audendum atque agendum, non consultandum, in 
tanto malo esse. Irent secum extemplo armati, qui rem- 
pubiicam salvam vellent. Nullo verius, quam ubi ea co- 
gitentur, hostium castra esse.”—Such is the concise and 
spirited language of Livy, 1. 22, c. 53. 

9 Val, Maximus, 1. 5, c. 6. 


t 



12 


# 


man know that against him this sword is drawn. s * 
By such a glorious display of manly patriotism, 
the god-like youth not only presented an ex¬ 
ample of piety in his own person, but recalled it 
at the moment when forsaking the breasts of 
others 10 . Struck with as much astonishment 
as if they had seen the victorious Carthaginian 
in the room, they all took the oath, and com¬ 
mitted themselves and fortunes to the guidance 
of Scipio. 

-He stopt the fliers * 1 , 

And by his rare example, made the coward 
Turn terror into sport. 

Thus did the gallant youth, after saving his fa¬ 
ther’s life at the battle of Ticinus, save his 
country after the battle of Cannae ; and shewed 
himself worthy of the choice they had made. 
Scipio remained for some time at Canusium 2 , and 


10 Val. Maximus, 1. 5, c. 6. 

1 Clade Cannbnsi nobilissimos juvenes, Italiam dese- 
rere cupientes, sua auctoritate compescuit.— Aur. Vic¬ 
tor. 

2 Appian, without any allusion to this magnanimous 
conduct of the young Scipio, says that Varro, after col¬ 
lecting the remains of his broken army as well as he could 
at Canusium, marched for Rome, leaving the command 
of them to Scipio, a military tribune. 




13 


the parts adjacent* animating whatever remains 
ot the scattered army could be collected, with 
whom he acted until he w r as superseded by Mar- 
cellus on his assuming the command. At this 
time his father and uncle were employed in 
Spain, and their success was of that encouraging 
nature at first* as to inspire bis elder brother 
Lucius with the hopes of offering himself a can¬ 
didate for the aedileship. 

This incident afforded his younger brother 
another opportunity of presenting himself in 
such an amiable point of view, as serves to keep 
up the interest already excited in his favour. 
Lucius possessed all the legal qualifications ne¬ 
cessary for the office* and wanted only the affec¬ 
tions of the people. His mother was particu¬ 
larly anxious he should succeed* and for pro- 
moting his success, had recourse* as was usual* 
to prayers and sacrifices. Publius* who warmly 
espoused the feelings of his mother* possessed 
the affections of the people* but had not the 
qualifications which were required by law. 
When the day of election was at hand* he told 
his mother he had twice dreamed the same 
dream, which was as follows : “ That he thought 
he was chosen iEdile with his brother, and that 
wffien they were returning home from the forum* 
she had met them at the door* and had embraced 


14 


4 

and kissed them.’" Their parent's heart was 
extremely affected by what she heard, and giv¬ 
ing herself up, with all maternal affection, to 
the flattering delusion, cried out, u O that I 
might live to see that day !” <c Do you consent 
then, my mother, (said Publius), to our making 
the trial?" To this she replied in the affirma¬ 
tive, never suspecting, from his time of life, that 
he would venture to make it, but merely sup¬ 
posing that he spoke in jest. However, with¬ 
out saying another word to his mother, he or¬ 
dered a white gow r n to be got ready, such as is 
worn by candidates for offices. It is probable his 
mother never troubled herself more about the 
matter. But next morning, while she was 
asleep, Scipio put on the candidate's gown, and 
went to the forum. The people, who were all 
prepossessed in his favour, received him with 
shouts of applause: when advancing to the 
place where the candidates were standing, he 
took his station by the side of his brother, whose 
election he carried, and his own likewise 3 . The 


3 Heureux presentiment des Romains, qui ne purent 
trop tot ouvrir l’entree des charges a deux Heros, dont 
fun conquit l’Afrique, et l’autre TAsie; et qui prendront 
dans la suite les surnoms, Tun d’Africane, l’autre d’Asia- 
tique.— Catrou et Rouille, Hist, Rom. 



15 


i 


news of their success was immediately conveyed 
to their mother, who in a transport of joy ran 
out, and meeting them both at the door, em¬ 
braced and kissed them. From the circum¬ 
stances attending this election, Polybius says, 
an opinion became prevalent among all who 
heard the story of the dream, that Scipio, not 
only when asleep, but whilst aw’ake in full pos¬ 
session of his understanding, held familiar con¬ 
verse with the gods. Yet it was from no dream 
he derived any assistance in this business; but 
being by nature generous, magnificent, and 
courteous in his manners, he had previously 
conciliated the favour of the multitude, and 
when the proper time arrived, had the address 
to use it both with the people and his mother: 
from this originated the idea of his acting under 
the impulse of divine admonition. Men, ob¬ 
serves Polybius, who have not the discernment 
either from nature or education, to view dis¬ 
tinctly the times, the causes, and the courses 
of actions, generally ascribe those events to the 
gods or to fortune, which are brought about by 
the expert and ready management of good sense 
and reason. The relation we have now given 
of Scipio’s appointment to the office of aedile, 
before he was of age, is taken from Polybius 5 


I 


16 

and the reflection which the historian makes 
on the dream, is its natural and obvious inter¬ 
pretation, when applied to a young man of such 
good sense and sound judgment. 

Livy gives an account of the preceding trans¬ 
action, with some circumstances which still 
render it more interesting. When Scipio ap¬ 
peared in the morning of his election, the tri¬ 
bunes of the people were determined to give 
him every opposition in their power: a conduct 
on the part of these magistrates, neither un¬ 
usual, nor unexpected. They declared that it 
was quite unprecedented for any one to demand 
the aedileship at his time of life; that the can¬ 
didate was only in his twenty-first year, when 
by law he should be in his thirty-seventh; to 
which they added, that if he was elected, they 
would never sanction it with their approbation. 
The reputation of men is greatly affected by the 
first steps they take in life, for on them often 
depends their good or ill fortune. It was ha¬ 
zardous for a young man to oppose the tribu- 
nitial power; and to pay it abject submission 
was not unaccompanied with some danger. Pro¬ 
bably such a reflection occurred to Scipio, and 
was duly weighed by him, but he was deter¬ 
mined to persevere. What passed at the time 


17 


of his election, is given by Livy with his usual 
elegance and simplicity. The plebeian tribunes 
insisted that he ought not to be admitted as a 
candidate till he was of the age required by 
law : to this objection the youth is said to have 
replied in the following energetic terms : “ Si 
me, omnes Quirites sedilem facere volunt, satis 
annorum habeo 4 .” If all the Romans wish to 

i 

make me an sedile, I am old enough. This 
appeal to the feelings of the Roman people, 
conveys both the beauty and brevity of the 
Latin language, and presents to us some idea 
of Scipio’s manly and original character. But 
though this address to the Roman people was 
full of high and haughty humour, and highly 
offensive to the tribunes, it flattered the pride 
of the electors, who w’ith one voice nominated 
him and his brother eediles, which was a mark 
of the highest favour and distinction in their 
power to bestow, as the aedileship was the first 
public preferment that was properly called a 
magistracy. 

In what manner Scipio passed his time (ex¬ 
cept in the instance of this election), from the 
year of the battle of Cannae in 537, until the 

4 Livy, 1. 25, c. 2. 

C 



18 


year 542, in which he was appointed proconsul 
in Spain, after the death of his father and 
uncle * * * * 5 , is not noticed in any surviving history. 
In that year the command in Spain became 
vacant, and the consternation in the city through 
all ranks of the people was extremely great. 
Not one of the senators 6 had the courage to 
solicit the situation, which was then vacant in 
that country ; and the senate itself was at a 
loss whom they should appoint to so important 
a command 7 . “ When the day arrived,” says 
Sir Walter Raleigh, “ on which a proconsul for 
Spain was to be chosen, all the senators and 
chief men of the city stood looking one another 
in the face, not one of them having the heart 
to adventure himself on such a desperate service, 
when on a sudden Publius Cornelius Scipio, 

7 Dum Capua in fa us tarn luit baud sine sanguine culpam, 

Interea geminos terra crudelis Ibera 

Fortuna abstulerat, permiscens tristia lagtis, 

Scipiadas, magnumque decus, magnumque dolorem. 

Silius Italicus, 1. 13, 1. 382. 

6 Livy, 1. 26, c. 18. 

7 Anxia turba, Patres, quasso, raedicamina, mcesti 
Imperio circurnspectant, Divosquc precantur. 

Qui laceris ausit ductor succederc castris. 

Silius, 1. 15, 1. 7. 



19 


then about four and twenty years of age 8 , got 
up on a rising ground from whence he might be 
seen by all, and declared himself a candidate, 
with a soul elevated above the danger 9 .” 

The eyes of the whole assembly were instantly 
turned on him, and general acclamations of fa¬ 
vour and applause testified hopes and expecta¬ 
tions of prosperity and success to the commis¬ 
sion. Then orders were given that the people 
should proceed to give their votes, and not only 
every century without exception IO , but every 
individual voted that Publius Scipio should have 
the command in Spain ; the country, says Swift, 
in which the greatest of the Scipios began all 
his glories 1 .—As soon as the business was over, 
and the vehemence and ardour of the people’s 

9 

8 Publius Scipio quartum ac vigesimum annum agens, 
iturum se pollicitus est. Quae quidem fiducia Pop. Ro¬ 
mano salutis ac victorias spem dedit. Eademque in ips& 
Hispania usus est.— Val. Max. 1. 3, c. 7. 

9 Ardua rostra petit, nullo fera belli volente, 

Et gravia ancipitis deposcit munera Martis. 

Si li us, 1. 15, 1. 131. 

10 A. V. C. 542. 

1 The letter of Swift, from which the above extract is 
taken, was written to the Duke of Argyll in 1711, whilst 
he commanded in Spain. 

c2 



20 


emotion had subsided, a sudden silence ensued, 
and all began to reflect on what they had done, 
wherein partial inclination prevailed over their 
more mature judgment. His youth gave them 
much uneasiness 2 , which was not abated when 
they took into consideration the misfortunes of 
his house. His very name, it is said, caused 
serious apprehensions, as he was to set out from 
two families, who w r ere in mourning; and was to 
proceed to a province, where he must carry on his 
military operations between the tombs of his fa¬ 
ther and uncle 3 . When Scipio perceived that 
the people w r ere under serious apprehensions on 
his account, he summoned an assembly, in 
which he spoke on the subject of his age, on 
the command to which he was appointed, and 
the war that he was to carry on, with such a 
magnanimity and elevation of sentiment, as re- 


2 Absterret juvenem, patrios patruique piare 
Optantem manes, tristl conterrita luctti, 

Et reputans annos, cognato sanguine turba: 

Si gentem petat iniaustam, iuter busta suorurn 
Decertandum hosti, qui fregerit arma duorum, 

Qui consulta ducum, ac flagret meliore Gradivo. 

Silius, 1. 15 , 1. 10. 

3 In ultionem patris ac patrui missus cum exercitu 
Scipio.— Florus. 



21 


kindled and renewed the ardour that was begin¬ 
ning to subside, and filled the minds of the 
people with greater confidence 4 of hope, than 
what usually arises from faith reposed in any 
profession, merely human; or from reason, 
forming its opinion by the most flattering 
state of affairs. To assist him in council, and 
moderate the vivacity of his genius and warlike 
disposition, Marcus Junius Silanus, a propraetor, 
now advanced in years, was named by the re¬ 
public for his colleague. Scipio had not only 
a noble carriage in him, (I now use the lan¬ 
guage of the old life of African us by Sir Tho¬ 
mas North), being endued with so many singu¬ 
lar virtues, but he was also a goodly gentleman, 
and very comely of person, and had besides a 
pleasant countenance; all which things toge¬ 
ther, are great means to win him the love and 
good will of every man. Moreover, even in his 
gestures and behaviour, there was a princely 
grace. Now the glory of martial discipline be¬ 
ing joined unto those his rare gifts of mind and 
nature, it was to be doubted whether civil vir¬ 
tues made him more acceptable unto strangers, 
than wonderful for his skill in wars. Further¬ 
more, he had filled the common people’s hearts 

4 Quae quidem fiducia, says Valerius Maximus, populo 
Romano salutis ac victoriae spem dedit. 



22 


with a certain superstitious fear, because he did 
daily (after he had taken the man’s gown) use to 
go up to the Capitol 5 , and so into the church 
without any company, insomuch that all men 
began to think that he learned some secrets 
therein.”—This latter custom, says Livy, which 
he observed through the whole course of his life, 
made several people give credit to a notion 
spread abroad at the time, that he was of divine 
extraction; which gave rise to the propagation 
of many miraculous stories that were never dis¬ 
couraged by him, but rather were, says the his¬ 
torian 6 , artfully countenanced, he himself nei¬ 
ther contradicting nor absolutely affirming any 
thing of the kind 7 . The story of his having been 

5 InCapitolium in tempest a nocte cunti nunquam canes 
allatraverunt. Nec hie quidquam prills caepit, quam in 
Celld* Jovis diutissime sedisset, quasi divinam mentem 
acciperet. 

6 Livy, 1. 26, c. 19. 

7 Hanc de se opinionem tali ingenio nutrivit, ut de 
nrigine quidem sua nihil spontb loqueretur; et cum in- 
terrogaretur, an vera essent qua passim ferebantur, nec 
nffirmaret, ne quam exinde maculam vanitatis incurreret, 
nec negaret, quod credi ab omnibus gandebat: haec taci- 
turnitate plus assecutus est, quam si palam jovis filium 
prjedicasset.— Petrarch. 

* Celia was the interior and more sacred part of the Tem¬ 
ple, where the image of the Deity was deposited. 


i 



23 


begotten by a huge serpent 8 , is mentioned by 
many of the ancient writers, and is particularly 
alluded to by Milton 9 , who in his enumeration 
of the serpent kind that were fabled to have had 
commerce with mortal women, says, 

lie with Olympias, this with her that bore 
Scipio, the heighth of Home. 

Scipio Nasica, in a speech in which he praises 
the Cornelian family, says, that Scipio Africa- 
nus so far exceeded the reputation of his father, 
as to create a belief that he was not born of the 
human race, but was of divine extraction 10 . 
Scipio was not displeased, says Bayle, that peo¬ 
ple should believe this story of his mother; and 
he is inclined to think that the intelligent Ro¬ 
mans were not averse to the circulation of such 
an opinion. When we take into consideration 
the sad condition to which Hannibal reduced 
Rome, it was to be wished that popular errors 

8 Jovis filius creditur, nam antequam conciperetur, 
serpens in lecto matris ejus apparuit, et ipsi parvulo 
draco circumfusus, nihil nocuit.— Aur. Victor. 

9 Milton, Paradise Lost, 1. 9, 1. 509. 

10 Cui viro divinum quiddam inesse existimabatur; 
adeo ut putaretur ctiam cum numinibus habere sermo- 
nem.—E utropius. 



24 


might raise the people’s expectations, and make 
Scipio be looked upon as a man designed by 
the gods for some great actions. It is evident 
from numberless passages in Livy, that at this 
period the Romans paid almost as much atten¬ 
tion to the prodigies which were annually col¬ 
lected, and to the ways and means that were 
devised to avert their portentous consequences, 
as they did to the most important affairs of the 
republic. At times they seemed to impute their 
distresses more to the neglect of superstitious 
rites, than to the misconduct of their generals, 
or to the superiority of their enemies. Fabius, 
who by perseverance and steadiness had the 
merit of restoring their affairs, was no less cele¬ 
brated for his diligence in averting the effect of 
these prodigies, than he was for the conduct 
and ability of a cautious and successful com¬ 
mander. 

From what has been said, it may I think be 
fairly inferred, that Scipio was impressed with 
a sense of religious duties, and a belief that 
there was a superior power that superintended 
the affairs of this world *. For it appears from 


* Nemo vir magnus, says Cicero, sine aliquo afflatCi 
divino unquam fuit .—De Nutu Deorum. 



25 


every account transmitted of him,, that he never 
entered upon any important business, either of 
a public or a private 2 3 nature, without retiring 
to some place of worship, and imploring the 
assistance of the divinity to which it was conse¬ 
crated. But notwithstanding this, it is at the 
same time to be acknowledged, that he seems 
to have mixed a certain degree of policy with 
his public acts of devotion ; and to have, in imi* 
tation ofLycurgus*, Numa, and Sertorius, en¬ 
deavoured to raise an opinion that he received 
unusual communications of divine favour : for 
by cherishing an opinion in the multitude, that 
he was supported in all his undertakings by su¬ 
pernatural aid, he inspired those that were un¬ 
der his command with greater confidence, and 
made them more eager, even in the most pe¬ 
rilous attempts. In the assault which was 
made on New Carthage in Spain, Scipio said 
that Neptune appeared to him by night, and 

2 Scipio Africanus non ante ad negotia publica vel 
privata ibat, quam in Celia JovisCapitolini moratus esset; 
et ideo Jove genitus credebatur.— Val. Maximus, 1. 1, 
c. 2. 

3 Polybius is of opinion, that there is a great resem¬ 
blance, both in character and conduct, between Scipio 
and Lycurgus, 1. 10, ex. 2. 



26 


bid him go on and fear nothing; and it is added, 
that as soon as the city was taken, he publicly 
offered up his thanks to the gods for his success. 
All these circumstances concurred in procuring 
Scipio a degree of admiration which surpassed 
what was due to any human being, and laid the 
foundation of some of the causes that, at this 
time, induced the public to commit to him, at 
so premature an age, the important command 
in question 4 . As soon as his appointment had 
taken place, he set sail for Spain as proconsul, 
and in the space of four years, reduced the 
whole country under the dominion of the Ro¬ 
mans 5 . In that short period he overcame four 
captains, routed and dispersed four well-ap¬ 
pointed armies, and drove the Carthaginians out 
of both Spains, so that it may be said with 
truth, he did not leave a single enemy in the 
province which was committed to his care. 

As Livy and Polybius have given a particular 
account of Scipio’s military transactions in 
Spain, I think it unnecessary to repeat them 
here—they were great—they were brilliant, and 
successful; which latter circumstance is what. 


l 


4 A. V. C. 542. 

5 Lucius Florus, l. 2, c. 6. 



27 


in the opinion of the world, crowns and justifies 
all wars, however undertaken or carried on. 

In consequence of his success 6 7 , the senate 
gave judgment that it merited a splendid tri¬ 
umph; but as it was never known that any per¬ 
son had obtained such an honour, when not 
invested with a public office, Scipio resigned 
his suit like a man, who would not be the cause 
of establishing a new custom, or of violating 
one that was old. In refusing the suit of the 
conqueror, the senate maintained the cause of 
wisdom and discipline, and the people were 
taught to understand that their authority was 
subordinate -to the laws. As the senate sat in 
the temple of Bellona without the city", Scipio 
briefly recited, as was customary on such occa¬ 
sions, the battles he had won, the towns he had 
taken, and the generals he had beaten : in 
doing which, he rather made trial how far he 
might hope for a triumph, than advanced his 


6 Livy, 1. 28, c. 38. 

7 On sait assez que le general victorieux a son retour 
a Rome, faisoit assembler le senat dans un temple hors 
de Tenceinte des murs, et qu’il lui exposoit ses preten¬ 
sions au triomphe, en lui fournissant en meme terns des 
memoires exacts de sa victoire, dont il etoit obligb de 
constater la veritb par son serment solennel.— Gibbon. 



suit with any probability of success, by reason 
of the existing law. As soon as the senate was 
dismissed, Scipio made his entrance into the 
city, and in the twenty-ninth year of his age 8 , 
was elected consul with the universal consent 
and approbation of the whole Roman people. 
Livy says his election was attended by an im¬ 
mense concourse of persons, who flocked from 
all parts of the country, not only for the purpose 
of giving him their votes, but of obtaining a 
sight of the candidate. They ran in crowds to 
his house, and even to the Capitol, at the time 
when he was making a sacrifice of a hecatomb 
to Jupiter, for a vow he had made in Spain after 
the suppression of a mutiny. He exhibited also 
games, of which the expence was defrayed by a 
decree of the senate, out of the money that he 
had transmitted to the treasury. 

Though I have declined entering into any 
particular detail of our hero’s military transac¬ 
tions in Spain, from being very little versed in 
the science of war ; yet I shall have peculiar 
pleasure in marking such features of his civil 


s It was required by law, that every candidate for the 
consulship should be forty-three years of age, called legi- 
timum tempus. 



29 


behaviour in that country, as serve to display the 
gallantry and humanity that always actuated 
him, of which the most remarkable instance is 
what is well known to every reader. The story 9 
is as follows : During the prosecution of the war 
in Spain 10 , we are told that, after the capture of 
New Carthage, a multitude of prisoners of both 
sexes fell into the power of Scipio, amongst 
whom was a damsel of great beauty, w'ho, where- 
ever she went, attracted the eyes of all: 

-She wept, and blush’d, 

And like the morn, was young and blooming. 

Scipio was at that time of life in which the pas¬ 
sions have the greatest influence—he was seven 
and twenty, his person graceful and noble— 
consequently his soldiers supposed that his heart 
could not be insensible to the charms of so 
lovely an object. He assured them they were 
not mistaken in their opinions; the treasure was 
of inestimable price, and if his thoughts were not 
entirely engaged by public business, he might 
probably indulge in such pleasures as were not 

9 This story is told by Sir Richard Steele, in one of his 
butlers, with peculiar grace and elegance. 

10 Livy, 1. 26, c. 50. 




30 


incompatible with his youth, or with that respect 
which he must ever pay to honour and virtue 1 . 
On making enquiries concerning the fair Spa¬ 
niard’s country and parents, he learnt that she 
was promised in marriage to a Spanish prince of 
the name of Allucius. Immediately he sent for 
him who was to be her husband, and he came, 
attended by her mother and nearest relations. 
The moment Scipio saw him, and perceived in 
his countenance expressions not only indicative 
of indignation but sorrow, he addressed him as 
follows : cc I am sensible of the regard this young 
captive has for you, and am not ignorant of your 
passion for her. Know, Sir, that she has been 
perfectly safe with me, and I now restore her as 
deserving of your love, as she was before she 
came under my protection. This lady, I can 
assure you, is a gift worthy of me to bestow, and 
of you to receive. I am happy at having it in 


1 Polybius tells us that Scipio was naturally of an 
amorous temperament— o-wt^one?, <t>IAOrTNHN rov ITo»- 
ttAiov, 1. 10. 

To which Valerius Maximus adds, that he was besides 
et juvenis, et Calebs et victor. 

Mais Scipion savoit egalement vaincre les ennemis des 
Itomains, et ses propres passions. 



31 


my power to contribute to an union on which 
the happiness of two such persons depends ; 

“ -And in return, 

“ I ask but tills, when you behold these eyes, 

“ These charms with transport, be a friend of Rome. 

If what I now do, raises in your mind any fa¬ 
vourable opinion of me, if you believe me to be 
a man of worth and virtue, such as these nations 
ever found my father and uncle, believe that 
Rome has many citizens who would act in the 
same manner under similar circumstances 1 2 .” 

Allucius, overcome at once with joy and mo¬ 
dest diffidence, and taking his noble friend by 
the right hand, invoked all the gods to reward 
such exalted goodness; for no return he could 
make, was adequate either to gratify his own 
wishes, or repay his benefactor’s generosity. 


1 “I will not so dishonour the virtue of Scipio,” says 
Lord Lyttelton in one of bis Dialogues, “ as to think he 
could feel any struggle with himself on that account. A 

woman engaged to another, engaged by affection as well 
as vow's, let her have been ever so beautiful, could have 
raised in his heart no sentiments but compassion and 
friendship. T’o have violated her, would have been an 
act of brutality, which none but another Tarquin could 
have committed. To have detained her from her husband, 
would have been cruel.” 




32 


instantly an immense treasure was produced by 
the friends of the fair captive, and offered as her 
ransom, which Seipio at first refused to take; 
but as Allucius pressed the acceptance of it, lie 
gave his assent, and ordered it all to be laid at 
his feet; when turning to the young prince, he 
said, “ I beg leave to present the whole to her 
who is to be your wife, as a part of her marriage 
dowry. You know, Sir, it is all nothing, in com¬ 
parison with w r hat I have already given her.” 
Allucius, after some opposition, acquiesced in 
Scipio’s bounty, and went home to his own na¬ 
tion, accompanied by his young bride and her 
relations, who resounded the praises of their be¬ 
nefactor, and of the Roman people, through all 
the regions round about, declaring, that he who 
had come amongst them w r as a god, rather than 
a man, one who conquers more by his goodness 
and generosity, than by the power of his arms 3 * 5 . 


3 The above story is told by old Burton, in his Ana¬ 

tomy of Melancholy, in the following natural and homely 

language: “ Seipio, a young man of twenty-three years 
of age, and the most beautiful of the Romans, equal in 
person to that Grecian Charinus, or Ilomcr’s Nereus, at 
the siege of a city of Spain, when as a noble and most 
fair young gentlewoman was brought unto him, and he 
had heard she was betrothed to a lord, rewarded her, and 
sent her back to her sweetheart.” 



33 


Soon after Allucius joined his camp at the head 
of fourteen hundred men, and never forsook him 
during the further continuance of the war. Ex¬ 
amples of military prowess can only be made the 
objects of imitation by a few; but such amiable 
displays of true generosity and courtesy as the 
foregoing relation presents, are fitted for the in¬ 
struction and imitation of all. As a small testi¬ 
mony of the grateful sense Allucius entertained 
for such magnanimous treatment, it is said he 
presented his benefactor with a silver shield 0 , on 
which he himself is represented as receiving 
from the hands of the Roman general, the beau¬ 
tiful captive to whom he was betrothed * 4 . 

Swift, in speaking of such men as made great 
figures in some particular action or circumstance 
of their lives, mentions our hero, when he dis¬ 
missed a fair captive lady presented to him after 
a great victory, turning his head aside, to pre¬ 
serve his own virtue 0 . 

Among the various prisoners that were pre- 


° See Appendix, Nos. I. and II. 

4 History, says Dryden, is fruitful of designs, both for 
the painter and the tragic poet. Such is Scipio restoring 
the Spanish bride, whom he either loved, or may be sup¬ 
posed to love; by which he gained the hearts of a great 
nation to interest themselves for Rome against Carthage. 

Fortior est qui se, quam qui fortissirna, viucit, moe.nia. 


D 



34 


sented to Scipio after the taking of New Car¬ 
thage s , a woman far advanced in years, with 
something venerable in her appearance, the wife 
of Mandonius, the brother of Indibilis, king of 
the Ilergetes, came forward, and threw herself at 
his feet, beseeching him with tears, to give such 
orders concerning the females who were his cap¬ 
tives, that they might be enabled to receive more 
consideration and attention than what they had 
experienced from the Carthaginians. As soon as 
Scipio heard this, he begged leave to assure her, 
that no necessary accommodation should be 
wanting to her. To this she replied, that such 
kind of attention was not that about which they 
were troubled; “for what accommodation (conti¬ 
nued she) can be looked upon as not enough for 
persons in our helpless situation ? Concern, Sir, 
of a very different nature rends my heart, when 
I reflect on the tender ages of these young fe¬ 
males; for as to myself, I am now beyond the 
danger of those insults to which our sex is ex¬ 
posed.’’ On each side of this venerable matron 
stood the daughters of Indibilis, in the bloom of 
youth and beauty, together with several other 
young ladies of equal distinction, by all of whom 
she was respected as a parent. “ From the reve- 


5 Poly!tins, I. 10. exc. 2; Livy, 1. 26, c. 49. 



35 


rence I owe myself, (returned Scipio), and from 
the respect which is ever due to Roman discipline, 
I will take care that no right, wherever deemed 
sacred, shall suffer violation among us. In the 
instance before me, the characters of women of 
such respectability as you are, who in the midst 
of misfortunes, are not forgetful of that delicacy 
which is the brightest ornament of the sex, de¬ 
mand from me peculiar attention;” Then tak¬ 
ing her by the hand, he bid her and all her fe¬ 
male attendants be of good cheer, assuring her 
at the same time, that he would be no less 
attentive to the preservation of their characters, 
than if they were his sisters or daughters. He 
then committed them to the care of persons of 
approved honour and fidelity, who were to be 
answerable for their treatment of them. In fine, 
during all the time Scipio had the command in 
Spain, he conquered the country as much by his 
generous manner of treating the vanquished na¬ 
tions, by his restoring his prisoners without 
ransom to their relations, by liberality towards 
his enemies, by wisdom and discretion in pu ¬ 
nishing mutiny and desertion, as he did by his 
valour and arms 6 . 

6 Qu& r&, (says Eutropius), omnes ferb Hispanite ad 
eura uno animd transierunt. 

D 2 



36 


The impression which was made on the minds 
of the Spanish people by these multiplied in¬ 
stances of an enlarged and beneficent spirit, was 
of such a conciliating nature, that we learn from 
Polybius, he was saluted by the name of king. 
As soon as he discovered that it was the univer¬ 
sal wish of the people to make him a king 7 , he 
thought it a matter of most serious moment. In 
consequence of which, he called a meeting of 
the principal persons who wished to confer on 
him the title, in which he told them that he 
should always desire not only to be, but to be 
esteemed a man of a truly royal mind; at the 
same time assuring them he would neither be a 
king, nor would he receive the title from any 
one; and for the future requested, that they 
should address him by no other appellation than 
that of imperator, or general. The greatness of 


7 Livy, 1. 27, c. 19, 

•-Mens omnibus una, 

Concordes regem appellant, regemque salutant. 
Scilicet bunc summum norunt virtutis lionorem. 
Sed postquam miti rejecit munera vultu, 

Ausonio non digna viro, patriosque vicissim 
Edocuit ritus, et Rom am nomina regum 
Monstravit nescire pati, turn versus in unam, &c. 

Si 1 . 1 us, 1. 16, 312, 




37 


soul, says Polybius 8 , which was displayed on this 
occasion, may very justly be thought to deserve 
applause. 

Though Scipio was at this time extremely 
young, and fortune had so favoured him in his 
career of glory, that a whole subject people 
made a voluntary offer to him of the royal title, 
yet he remained true and constant to his coun¬ 
try, not suffering himself to be tempted by so 
flattering a display of honour and distinction. 
To refuse the title of king, when you have it in 
your power to possess it, is, says Seneca, what 
constitutes the essence of reigning 9 . But in the 
subsequent progress of his brilliant victories, 
after he had subdued Hannibal, and brought 
down the pride of the Carthaginians, and had 
besides conquered Asia and her kings, how many 
were the occasions that occurred, of his esta¬ 
blishing himself in royalty in almost any part of 
the world he might have chosen ? Such golden 
opportunities were presented, as might have in¬ 
spired not only a human mind, says Polybius, 
but even a divinity itself, if the expression is 
allowable, with ambitious pride. But so ele- 


8 L. 10, exc. 6. 

9 Hoc est regnare; nolle regnare, quum possis. 



38 


vated, so superior was the soul of Scipio to that 
of other men, that, though supreme power is 
regarded as the greatest blessing which the gods 
can bestow, and though it was thrown so often 
in his way by fortune, he rejected it with dis¬ 
dain, and preferred his duty, and the interests 
of his country, to all the dazzling splendour and 
fancied happiness of a throne. The barbarians 
themselves, says Livy, acknowledged the great¬ 
ness of his mind, which could look down with con¬ 
tempt on a title as beneath him, which from the 
rest of mankind attracts admiration and wonder. 

An incident occurred before Scipio returned 
to Rome, which should not be omitted, as it 
serves to give a further trait of our hero’s cha- 

t 

racter: Syphax was king of the Massaesylians, a 
people who possessed the half of Numidia, 
whose country lay opposite to New Carthage, 
where Scipio then had his head-quarters. This 
prince was the ally of the Carthaginians, but his 
fidelity, like that of other barbarians, was gene¬ 
rally guided by fortune, and the prosperity of 
those with whom he was in alliance. In conse¬ 
quence of the unsuccessful slate of Carthaginian 
affairs then in Spain and Italy 10 , Scipio enter- 


10 Anno V. C. 543. 




39 


tained hopes that he might be able to engage 
him in his interest. Under this idea be dis¬ 
patched his friend Laelius to sound the Numi- 
dian, at the game time sending with him such 
presents as he conceived might be acceptable to 
his majesty. Syphax, not at all displeased with 
the arrival of Laelius, nor with the gifts he 
brought along with him, and considering the 
prosperous condition of the Romans, consented 
to embrace their friendship, but refused to ex¬ 
change the ratification of any treaty, save with 
the principal in person. When Laelius was 
going away, he desired him to tell his general, 
that if he came himself, he trusted he should 
have no cause to repent of the journey. The 
great importance of an alliance which promised 
to secure the interest of so powerful a king, 
overcame in Scipio’s mind not only the impru¬ 
dence, but the illegality of an action so hazar¬ 
dous both to himself and the republic ; inasmuch 
as there was a positive law existing, which for¬ 
bad, under penalty of death, a general’s quitting 
his army by moving out of his province : the 
violation of this law, became a plentiful source 
of invective to Fabius and his abettors. 

It is true, Scipio committed himself in an 
enemy’s country, to the power of a barbarian 


40 


king, to a faitli unknown, without any obliga¬ 
tion, without hostage, upon the single security 
of his own magnanimity, of his good fortune, 
and the promise of his elevated hopes; so just 
is the observation of Livy, that the confidence 
we repose in another, often procures the return 
of the like confidence. Habita tides, ipsam 
plerumque fidem obligat. 

Yet when we consider that the object of what 
Scipio did, sprung from the purest patriotic mo¬ 
tives, and that the conquest of Africa followed, 
his gainsayers w T ere put to shame, but not to 
silence. What I am going now to relate, is that 
which tends further to illustrate the character of 
Scipio. The two generals of the two greatest 
nations in the world accidentally met together 
at the court of the Numidian king: both were 
received by Syphax with great respect * 1 . 

-Of the same repast, 

Both gracefully partook, and both reclin’d 
On the same couch; for personal distate 
And hatred seldom burn between the brave 1 . 


1 Celsus ment6 Syphax acciri in tecta benignb 
Imperat, et tanto regni se tollit honore. 

Si li us, 1. 16, 1. 221. 


1 Sophonisba.— Thomson. 




41 


The two generals sat on the same couch at 
table, a circumstance which they perceived, as 
Livy acquaints us, would be particularly pleas¬ 
ing to the king 3 . During this interview Scipio's 
address was so prepossessing, the versatility of 
his genius so rapid, and his conversation so 
charming, that he delighted not only Syphax, 
who was a stranger to Roman manners, but even 
Asdrubal, who was his enemy. 

Then the superior virtues of the Roman 
Gain’d all their hearts. 


In the course of the conversation which the 
two generals had together, Asdrubal is reported 
to have thus addressed Scipio : “ That he ap¬ 
peared to him more worthy of admiration by his 
agreeable conversation, than by his exploits in 


3 Quia ita cordi erat regi.—L ivy, 1. 23, c. 18. 

Silius Italicus, with the allowable license of a poet, 
says that Syphax had great pleasure in retracing in Sci- 
pio’s face the likeness of his father, whom lie remembered 
in Spain. 

Quam te, Dardanida pulcherrime, mente serena 
Accipio, intueorque libens! quamque ora recordor 
Lastus Scipiadae. Revocat tua forma parentem. 

L. 10, 1. 225. 



war 4 ;—that he did not doubt but Syphax and 
his kingdom would soon be at the disposal of the 
Romans, so captivating were Scipio’s manners 
in winning the hearts of men ;—that the Car¬ 
thaginians need not trouble themselves so much, 
by enquiring how Spain was lost, as how Africa 
might be preserved;—that Scipio’s excursions 
by sea were not those of pleasure; that he would 
never have encountered the perils of such a 
voyage in two small ships, nor put himself in 
the power of a king, whose honour he had not 
tried, but with a prospect of subduing Africa; 
—that the latter was an object which Scipio 
had long revolved in his mind, having often 
publicly expressed his regret that he was not 
carrying on the war in Africa, as Hannibal was 
in Italy.” 

Before his departure, Scipio ratified a league 
with Syphax, who was so interested for his per¬ 
sonal safety, that he detained Asdrubal till he 
heard he was landed at New Carthage. 


-Even Asdrubal himself, 

With admiration struck and just despair, 
Own’d him as dreadful at the social feast. 
As in the battle. 


Sophonisba —Thomson. 




43 


Valerius Maximus, in noticing the foregoing 
incident, blames the temerity of Scipio, not only 
for the unguarded manner in which he visited 
Syphax, but for trusting his own safety, and 
that of his country, to the honour of a faithless 
Numidian, by which rash step, it became for a 
moment a matter of doubt whether he should be 
the captive or conqueror of the Masstesylian 5 . 
If we were to judge of the wisdom of Scipio’s 
visit to Syphax by the event, the answer would 
be attended with little difficulty. But what was 
the observation of the wise Fabius on such occa¬ 
sions ? It is comprised in a few words : Eventus 
stultorum magister est—Events only are the in¬ 
structors of fools 6 . 

Scipio, previous to his leaving Spain, entered 
into a close alliance with Massinissa, a young 
Numidian prince 7 , who was strongly prepos¬ 
sessed in favour of the connection, by the 


5 Itaque exiguo momento maximae rci casus fiuctuavit, 
utrum captivus, an victor Scipio Syphacis fieret.— Val. 
Maximus, 1. 9, c. 8. 

6 -Errat 

Quisquis ab events facta notanda putat. 

Ovid. 

7 Livy, 1. 28, c. 35. 


/ 





44 


amiable treatment shewn to his nephew Mas- 
si va, the particulars of which, as they lead 
more and more to the elucidation of our hero’s 
character, I shall give from the best of Roman 
historians. 

After the battle of Boecula, when the quaestor 
was selling off some Africans that had been 
taken prisoners, he observed a youth of extra¬ 
ordinary ^beauty, and hearing that he was of 
royal blood, sent him to the commander-in¬ 
chief. When the youth appeared before Scipio, 
he asked him, “ Who, and of what country he 
was, and why at such an early age he had been 
in the camp ?”—The youth told him “he was a 
Numidian, and called by his countrymen Mas- 
siva;—that by the death of his father he was left 
an orphan, and had been educated in the family 
of his maternal grandfather, Gala, king of the 
Numidians ;—that he had lately arrived in Spain 
with his uncle Massinissa, who had brought over 
a body of cavalry to the assistance of the Cartha¬ 
ginians ;—that he had never before been in a 
battle, having been prohibited by Massinissa on 
account of his youth; but that on the day of the 
engagement with the Romans, he had privately 
taken a horse and arms, and without the 
knowledge of his uncle, had gone into the 


45 


field, where, by the falling of his horse, he was 
thrown to the ground, and made a prisoner by 
the Romans/' 

Scipio, after giving orders that the young 
Numidian should be taken care of, finished the 
business he was about at the tribunal; then re¬ 
tiring into his pavilion, called the youth, and 
asked him, whether he wished to return toMas- 
sinissa ? To this the boy, bursting into tears, 
replied, that that was what above all things he 
desired. On hearing this, Scipio gave him a 
gold ring, a vest with a broad purple border, a 
Spanish cloak with a golden clasp, and a horse 
magnificently caparisoned; after which he or¬ 
dered an escort of horse to attend him as far on 
his way home as he pleased 8 . 

Though the alliance which Massinissa entered 
into with Scipio, was founded ostensibly on gra¬ 
titude for his kindness towards his nephew, yet 
there were other motives of a much stronger na¬ 
ture which led to its formation; motives arising 
from the consideration that Carthage was verg- 


8 Eos igitur victorias maximos fructus rati Romani, 
Diis templorum ornamenta, regibus sanguinem 
Suum resrituere. 


V, Maximus, 1. 5 , c. 1. 



; 




46 

ing towards its decline, and that Massinissa 
might add considerably to his power by the 
assistance of Rome. Whatever were the causes 
of the connection, the Numidian prince acted 
with great fidelity to the republic, as he had ever 
done to his benefactor, in whose house he passed 
most of his time 9 , whenever he visited Rome ; 
to which may be added, that the uniform kind¬ 
ness he experienced from Scipio, made such a 
deep impression on his heart, as was never for¬ 
gotten by him during a long protracted life of 
near one hundred years. 

On Scipio’s return from Spain he was elected 
consul, as has been observed, without one dis¬ 
senting voice, amidst the greatest concourse of 
people ever met together at Rome. In such an 
assembly of men, both Romans and strangers, 
various were the subjects of conversation, and 
various were their opinions; but there was one 
subject, which above all others, attracted their 

9 The relation between the host and guest, was held 
by the ancients, both Romans and Greeks, in the num¬ 
ber of the most sacred connections. It arose from the 
general custom of receiving strangers when upon their 
travels; a custom so universally established, that they 
were scarcely ever reduced to the necessity of taking up 
their lodgings at an inn. 




I 


47 

attention, and on which all hearts beat in uni¬ 
son—the name of Scipio was in every mouth, 
and his glorious exploits the theme of every 
tongue— 

--“ All thanked the gods, 

u That Rome had such a soldier 

and were unanimous in declaring that he should 
be sent to Africa, that the war should be carried 
on in tbe enemy’s country, and that there was 
no man so capable of terminating it with suc¬ 
cess as the conqueror of Spain. Scipio’s wishes 
exactly corresponded with those of the people: 
he boldly accepted the choice made for him to 
the new province; and in the senate gave it as 
his decided opinion, that the carrying the war 
into Africa, was the only way by which it could 
be conducted with effect 10 . 

It was some time about this period, and pre¬ 
vious to his entering on the African war, that 
he is supposed to have married ^Emilia, the 
daughter of Paulus iEmilius, who fell so deeply 
lamented in the battle of Cannae. He thought 

10 Les citoyens de Rome attribuoient a la. divination 
de Cornelius Scipion, cet empressement qu’il avoit eu 
d’aller porter la guerre en Afrique.— Histoire de Ca¬ 
tron , &c. 

1 



48 


it of high consequence to strengthen the interest 
of his own family by an alliance with that of the 
illustrious house of the AEmilii. Of ./Emilia's 
character, who is little noticed in history, we 
can only judge by that of her daughter, the ce¬ 
lebrated Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, 
who joined to maternal tenderness, the genius, 
the sentiments, and firmness of the greatest 
men. From the character of the daughter, 
some idea may be formed of the mother, who 
had the care and superintendance of her educa¬ 
tion *. 

To return to Scipio: Of those who opposed 
his wishes on the subject of the African war, 
Fabius Maximus was the man whose character 
had the greatest weight; “ but he was a man,” 
says Sir Walter Raleigh, ee who seems to have 


1 Valerius Maximus notices the character of /Emilia 
in the following anecdote, in his chapter De Fide XJxo - 
rum erga Maritos: Tenia /Emilia, Africani pioris uxor, 
mater Cornelias Gracchorum, tantas fuit comitatis et pa- 
tientiae, ut cum sciret viro suo ancillulam ex suis gratam 
esse, dissimulaverit: ne domitorem orbis Africani foemina 
impudicitiae reum ageret. Tantumque a vindicta mens 
ejus abfuit, ut post mortem Africani manumissam ancil- 
lam in matrimonium liberto suo daret.—V. Max. 1. 6 t 
c. 7. 



49 


been troubled with that disease, which too often 
eauseth men renowned for long approved virtue, 
to look with an envious eye upon the actions of 
those who follow them in the same career of 
glory.” 

Fabius alledged many reasons against the war 
being carried into Africa; of which the principal 
were 2 , u that the treasury was unable to sus¬ 
tain the expences of it; that it was extremely 
perilous to hazard an army where they could not 
be easily recalled for the defence of Rome, in 
case of any emergency.” He particularly dwelt 
on the danger in which Italy should be placed, 
not only from Hannibal, but from Mago, who 
was at that moment cruising on the coast of Li¬ 
guria, with an army ready to join that of his 
brother. He then declared, that the consul's 
character would acquire much greater glory by 

delivering Italy from the enemy, than it would 

/ 

from any injury that could be done them in 
Africa. Scipio’s victories in Spain, he consi¬ 
dered as of little moment, compared to those 
which were to be gained in Africa. In the 
allusion he made to Scipio’s successes in Spain, 
he blamed him for suffering Asdrubal to pass 


2 Livy, 1. 28, c. 40. 


E 



✓ 


bO 


into Italy, from which it was greatly to be ap¬ 
prehended that like accidents might again occur. 
But the principal point he urged was, that 
Africa was not yet a province of the republic, 
and therefore that the people had no right to 
name a governor to it. In the course of his 
speech, he took great pains to guard against the 
idea of his being influenced by any emulation or 
jealousy of another’s glory in opposing Scipio’s 
wishes; u for can it be supposed, (exclaims he), 
that I can have any rivalship with one, who is not 
equal in age even to my son ? I, who put a stop 
to the victorious career of Hannibal, that the 
young men who came after me, might be en¬ 
abled to conquer him 3 ; I, who have grown old 
in the accumulation of honours;—yes, surely, I 
may be allowed to say, that tw T o dictatorships 
and four consulships, with all the glory I have 
acquired in peace and war, are enough to shelter 
me from the suspicion of such unworthy feel- 
mgs. 

Fabius concluded a long and able speech with 
saying, that in his judgment, Scipio was elected 
consul, not for himself, but for the common- 


3 Vincere ego prohibui Hannibalem, ut a vobis, quo¬ 
rum vigent nunc vires, etiam vinci posset.— Livy. 



V 


51 


wealth, and that troops were raised for the de¬ 
fence of Rome and Italy; and not that consuls, 
arrogating to themselves an authority like kings, 
should convey them to any part of the world 
they chose, and make them subservient to their 
own selfish and ambitious views. The reputa¬ 
tion which Fabius had so well earned, and the 
high authority with which he gave his opinion, 
corroborated all he said; consequently it carried 
great weight with the elder part of the senate, 
and prevailed for some time against the enter¬ 
prising spirit of the young consul. 

The moment Scipio was sensible of the effect 
which Fabius’s speech made on the house, he 
arose, and spoke to the following effect. He 
began by observing, that Fabius, at the very 
moment in which he was vindicating his cha¬ 
racter from all jealousy and envy, had not ne¬ 
glected extolling his own merits, nor depreciat¬ 
ing those of a young man, with whom, he 
asserted, it was not in the nature of things that 
he should ever be his competitor in the race of 
glory. After dwelling on this topic for some 
time, he next proceeded to justify his design 
of carrying the war iuto Africa, and declared it 
would be better to make an offensive, than a 
defensive war, especially against a people who 


52 






i 


\ 


had no natural strength, and who were under the 
necessity of depending on mercenaries, whose 
character was inconstancy itself. On the subject 
of Italy he entertained no fears, trusting that his 
colleague Publius Licinius would be as capable 
of taking care of it, as others had been in times 
of much greater danger. “It is true, that Fabius 
has magnified the dangers attending a campaign 
in Africa, just as if the Carthaginians were more 
formidable in one place than in another. But 
the time is now come for making Africa the 
theatre of the war, and for causing her to feel 
those calamities at her own door, which we have 
been experiencing for the last fourteen years : 


ei It is time the thunder of the battle be return’d 
et Back on the Funic shores.” 


“ Fabius, in the allusion he has made to his 
own advanced period of life, tells me, I am not 
so old as his son; just as if the laudable ambi¬ 
tion of glory was limited to this mortal life, and 
did not carry its views to the latest posterity 4 . 
Magnanimous souls compare themselves not 


--Sed famam extendere factis, 

Hoc virtutis opus. 


ViRGtL, 1. 10, 1. 468. 



53 


only with the illustrious heroes of the present 
time, but with those of the past.” 

Scipio then concluded a most eloquent ha¬ 
rangue, in the following manner: u I confess, 
conscript fathers, I should be apprehensive of 
tiring out your patience with matter little con¬ 
nected with the present subject, if I was, in imi¬ 
tation of Fabius, who has considered of such 
little consequence what I did in Spain, to at¬ 
tempt to raise my reputation on the ruins of his. 
I shall not be guilty of any such thing : in mo¬ 
deration and forbearance of speech, if in nothing 
else, young as I am, I shall surpass this old 
general. Such has been the constant tenor of 
my life and actions, both in public and private, 
that I can hold my tongue on the present occa¬ 
sion, and remain satisfied with whatever opinion 
you may form of me.” 

This speech, notwithstanding what Silius Ita- 
licus says 5 * , was not listened to w 7 ith all the de¬ 
ference that was due to the shining character of 
Scipio, because a report had gone abroad, that 
if he did not obtain the permission of the senate 
to carry the war into Africa, he would demand 

5 Talibus accensi patres, fatoque vocante, 

Consulis annuerunt dictis, faustumque precati 
Ut foret Ausoniae, tramittcre bella dederunt. 

? Silius, 1. 16—end. 



54 


it of the people. Quintus Fulvius, who had been 
four times consul, and also censor, called upon 
Scipio to declare in the presence of the senators, 
whether he would leave the distribution of the 
provinces to them, and acquiesce in their decree; 
or whether, in case he did not approve of it, he 
would appeal from the same to the people ? To 
this Scipio answered, that he would act in what¬ 
ever manner he should judge most advantageous 
to the republic. On hearing this, Fulvius ob¬ 
served, that all deliberation was useless, and 
therefore desired the tribunes of the people to 
interpose. The consul replied, that it was not 
fair in the tribunes to interrupt the senators in 
giving their votes. Then the tribunes said, that 
if the consul would leave the disposal of the pro¬ 
vinces to the senate, they would support their 
decision, and suffer no appeal from it to the 
people; but if, on the other hand, he would not 
submit to the senate, they w'ould support who¬ 
ever should refuse to vote. The consul desired 
he might be permitted to have a conference with 
his colleague, which ended in his acquiescence 
in the judgment of the senate, who immediately 
proceeding to the distribution of the provinces, 
appointed him unanimously to the government 
of Sicily, with liberty to pass into Africa, if lie 
judged it for the interest of the republic. 


55 




t 


When this decree of the senate was made 
public, the minds of all people were elated with 
such sanguine expectations of glorious perform¬ 
ances, that they already ranked Africa amongst 
their possessions, and considered the war at an 
end. But Fabius, though he was unable to pre¬ 
vent Scipio’s carrying the war into Africa, used 
all means in his power to obstruct his military 
preparations, and prevailed on the senate to re¬ 
fuse the funds necessary for equipping his arma¬ 
ment. He even tried, through his colleague 
Licinius, to traverse all his measures, and to dis¬ 
suade the Roman youth from going out with 
him as volunteers. Yet, in spite of all the opposi¬ 
tion that was given, Scipio obtained tire senate’s 
permission to receive whatever succours the 
allies were disposed to grant. In consequence 
of this mark of their approbation, orders were 
sent to Etruria, and to the other states in alli¬ 
ance with Rome, to prepare a fleet; and so zea¬ 
lous were all in his favour, that in the space of 
five and forty days it was put to sea, fully 
equipped by private contributions 6 . The whole 


6 Secundo quoque Punico bello, Scipionis classes XL, 
die d securi navigavit. Tantum tempestivitas etiam in 
rapids celeritatb pollet.—P lix. 1. 16, c. 39. 



56 


undertaking seemed at first so rash and pre¬ 
sumptuous, that the republic would not supply 
him either with troops or money; added to 
which, there was a public standing order, that 
no levies were to be made in Italy whilst Han- 

w 

nibal was in arms. 

The moment the fleet was ready to sail, Scipio 
proceeded to Sicily, and landed at Syracuse. 
The entire march of Scipio’s military career in 
this expedition, was attended with equally bril¬ 
liant success as that which distinguished its 
progress in Spain ; but as its object was more 
momentous, its issue proved more glorious. He 
conquered Hannibal, and subdued the Cartha¬ 
ginians ; which few words comprise the highest 
eulogy that can be pronounced on a soldier. 

Having declined all particular account of 
Scipio’s military transactions in Spain, I shall 
observe a similar silence on the present occasion, 
and confine myself only to such prominent fea¬ 
tures of his character, as serve to keep up with 
undiminished interest, that place in our hearts 
which he acquired at the age of seventeen, and 
which abated not when the grave closed over 
him at Liternum. As soon as he landed at Sy¬ 
racuse, he learnt that a party of Roman soldiers 
had, in defiance of a decree of the senate, re- 


57 

fused to restore to the inhabitants some lands 
which had been taken from .them by violence. 
The immediate restoration of this property was 
ordered, under penalty of the most exemplary 
punishment, and was complied with without 
a moment’s delay. This example of summary 
justice gave him the hearts and hands of all the 
Sicilians, and secured him their zealous co¬ 
operation in the prosecution of his further de¬ 
signs. As long as Roman generals and gover¬ 
nors of provinces adhered to this mode of con¬ 
duct, the government from which their power 
emanated, was every where respected. 

Whilst Scipio remained at Syracuse, he was 
greatly embarrassed by the violent proceedings 
of Quintus Pleminius, whom he had lately made 
governor of Locri. The circumstances attend¬ 
ing this appointment, proved a source of some 
temporary gratification to his enemies, who in 
consequence of his gross misconduct 7 , preferred 
an accusation against Scipio, as having not only 
overlooked, but connived at it. 7’o strengthen 


7 Pleminius is represented in the light of a man who 
had nothing of a Roman citizen— prater habitum, vesti- 
tumque et sonum Latina lingua. He is called, l est is ac 
bellua immanis. —Livy, 29, c. 17. 



/ 



58 

their charge, his enemies added, that the army 
lie commanded was in a state of great insubor¬ 
dination, which they ascribed to an unbounded 
indulgence allowed both officers and men, whilst 
he himself was addicted to a life of effeminacy 
and pleasure. 

This accusation was supported by a popular 
party at Rome, at the head of which, we are 
concerned to find the names of Fabius Maximus 
and Marcus Cato, whose jealousy was easily 
awakened at the important services Scipio had 
rendered his country, and which in their eyes 
had given him too great an ascendancy in the 
state. The proverbial caution of Fabius ever 
dreaded the impetuous ardor of youth; and it is 
not without reason supposed, that Scipio’s un¬ 
interrupted career of good fortune gave him some 
secret uneasiness. He condemned Scipio for 
placing such a man as Pleminius in the govern¬ 
ment of Locri, and for not immediately attend¬ 
ing to the complaints of the inhabitants against 
him : nay, his prejudice against him rose to 
such a heighth, that he called him a man born 
to be the corrupter of military discipline in the 
army. By such an unqualified strain of invec¬ 
tive Fabius encouraged others to utter what their 
malice suggested, not only in opposition to 


59 


Scipio’s own mild demeanour, but to the good 
discipline of his army, which, they affirmed, lay 
idle in Sicily, neither mindful of, nor fit for duty. 
The rigid austerity of Cato’s life, and his severe 
simplicity of manners, were quite incompatible 
with the unbounded liberality of Scipio’s public 
sentiments and magnificent style of living. “ It 
is not at the head of armies (exclaimed Scipio, 
on an occasion of one of his Queestor Cato’s pru¬ 
dent remonstrances), it is not, Isay, at the head 
of armies, that the economy you recommend is 
to be practised. It is of the exploits I shall per¬ 
form, and not of the expences incurred by them, 
that I must give the Roman people an account.” 

Sir Walter Raleigh censures the vellemency 
of Cato’s nature, for maligning the virtue of 
that noble Scipio the African 8 , and some other 
worthy men, that were no less honest than him¬ 
self, though far less rigid and more gallant in 
behaviour. The jealous malignity of Cato’s 
nature was unworthy his high reputation, and 
his coalition with Fabius tended to give it greater 
effect: for they were both men constitutionally 
timid in their policy, and temporizing in action. 


s Livy’s words are: “ Scipionem a Catone adlatrari 
solitum esse.—In English, to be barked at. 





60 

and consequently jealous of a youth who was 
brave, daring and successful. 

No man, says Bayle, was more proper than 
Cato to perform the functions of a censor, nor 
did any man ever acquit himself better of the 
duties of that office. He exerted all his severity, 
all the strength of his eloquence, and the whole 
weight of his regular life, to repress the luxury 
and the other vices of the Romans, for which 
reason it was said that he was no less useful to 
the Roman commonwealth by the war he waged 
against the depravation of manners, than Seipio 
by his victories over the enemy. The eulogium 
pronounced on him by the best of the Latin 
historians 9 , is so beautiful in the original, that 
Bayle had not the courage to attempt a transla¬ 
tion of it. That the jealousy of such men as 
Fabius and Cato, and some others, was wholly 
without foundation, cannot be reasonably sup¬ 
posed. The important services Seipio had ren¬ 
dered his country, in conjunction with those 
eminent virtues which he had on every occasion 
displayed, seem to have given him such a supe¬ 
riority in the state, as to have raised in these 
distinguished patriots a strong jealousy of his 


9 Livy 1.39, c. 40. 



61 


credit and power. Hence originated a party, 
whose object was to mortify his ambition, and 
restrain his too extensive influence, and whose 
suspicious malice only ceased with their lives. 

To the complaints of the Locrians, which had 
arisen from the outrageous behaviour of their 
Governor, Scipio made no reply. He left the 
vindication of his conduct to the Locrians them¬ 
selves 10 , who all with one accord acquitted him 
of the charge preferred against him, and de¬ 
clared that the severities they suffered under 
Pleminius, were, in their opinion, unknown to 
Scipio: adding, that they were convinced it 
Avas neither by his order, nor consent, that such 
enormous oppressions had been committed, and 
that, consequently, they were not to be charged 
to his account. The commissioners, who were 
sent by the senate to investigate the business, 
when once assured of his innocence, and of the 
unfounded malice of his enemies, were filled 
with great joy, inasmuch as it delivered them 
from the invidious office of commencing a pro¬ 
secution against a man so much in favour with 
the Roman people. It must be allowed, that 
some share of the odium of Pleminius’s bad con- 


10 Livy, 1. 29, c. 21. 



62 


duct fell upon the consul, on account of his ex¬ 
treme lenity through the whole business; and 
for this his enemies in the senate never failed 
to inveigh against him, whenever they had the 
opportunity. 

To the remaining charge, relative to the dis¬ 
order and licentiousness of his army, as con¬ 
nected with his own effeminate life, his man¬ 
ner of treating it was the same, though it was 
one of a much more serious nature. He made 
no reply to the commissioners when they waited 
upon him, for he had prepared, not words, 
but facts, to answer their charges; but gave 
orders that they should have free access to all 
his stores, magazines, arsenals, &c. with full 
permission to examine his fleet, his seamen, 
and his army, and after that, to report the con¬ 
dition in which they found both him and them, 
to the senate. The commissioners, (who con¬ 
sisted of a praetor, ten senators, two tribunes, 
and one redile), after taking the necessary time 
to make their enquiry, and form an opinion, 
departed from Sicily with the full assurance of 
the notorious falshood, and groundlessness of 
the accusation ; and declared when they returned 
to Rome, that if Carthage was to be conquered, 
it was by him, whose innocence and correctness 


63 


of life they fully attested, and by that army 
which was represented to have been in a state 
of total insubordination. The very men who 
were appointed by the senate to investigate his 
conduct, and the state of his army, became his 
warmest advocates; and his enemies had the 
great mortification to learn, that superior lustre 
was cast on a character which they supposed 
would have been tarnished for ever. 

The life of effeminacy * 1 to which Scipio was 
said to have been addicted, was nothing more 
than the disposition which he shewed at Syra¬ 
cuse, to make himself acquainted with the 
learning of the Greeks, and to pass his time 
‘partly amongst his books, and partly in the 
public places of conversation and exercise. He 
was the first Roman statesman and warrior 
who manifested any great inclination to study 
the literature of Greece. It appears from Va¬ 
lerius Maximus, that there was nothing effemi¬ 
nate in his conduct whilst he remained in Sicily; 
for the exercises in which he indulged, were 
those of manly recreation 2 , and such as were 

1 Livy, 1. 29, c, 19. 

1 Non hac re segniores Pcenicis exercitibus manus in- 

tulit: seel nescio, an ideo alacriores, quia vegeta et stre- 
nua ingenia, quo plus recessus sumunt, hoc vehemen- 
tiores impetus edunt.—V. Maximus, 1. 3, c. G. 



64 


the fashion of the place, by which he expected 
to win the favour of all his young companions 
in arms*. The instances noticed of his licentious 
behaviour, are his laying aside the Roman 
habit, and wearing the Greek cloak, and em¬ 
broidered sandals. 

The delay which Scipio made in Sicily, is 
considered by Seneca 3 4 5 , as an instance of that 
wisdom which always regulated his life, and 
raised him above the influence of the angry pas¬ 
sions. And what was that conduct ? (cries Se¬ 
neca),—Did he not, (says he), forsaking Han¬ 
nibal and the Carthaginian army, and all those 
with whom he had reason to be angry, remove 
the war into Africa in so dilatory a manner, that 
they who envied his virtue, accounted him an idle 
and dissolute man ? To give full assurance of 
the confidence he placed in his army, he said to 
some friends who were standing with hinj s , 
“ Look at those three hundred men, and that 
tower near them: there is not a man of them, 
who would not, were I to give the word of com- 


3 In these particulars, Germanicus, whose virtues 
would have done honour to the best days of Roman 
freedom, took for his model, whilst in Egypt, the con¬ 
duct of Scipio in Sicily.— Tacitus An. 1. 2, c. 59. 

4 Seneca de Ira. 

5 Valerius Maximus. 



65 


mand, go up to the top of it, and throw him¬ 
self down headlong.” Whilst Scipio’s whole 
thoughts were fixed on Africa, deputies arrived 
from Syphax, to acquaint him that their master 
had entered into a new treaty with the Cartha¬ 
ginians 6 , and was leagued in close friendship 
with Asdrubal, the son of Cisco, whose daugh¬ 
ter, the celebrated Sophonisba, he had just 
married; at the same time they were desired to 
add, that it was besides their king’s pleasure, 
that Scipio should not pass into Africa; for if 
he did, he must be under the necessity of op¬ 
posing him, not only for the sake of his country, 
but his wife’s sake, whose hatred to Rome was 
inextinguishable. 

This change in Syphax’s sentiments, Scipio, 
with great address, concealed from his army, 
lest it might cast a damp on the ardour of his 
men, whose minds were all intent on the ap¬ 
proaching war. He dismissed the ambassadors 
before the object of their mission was made pub¬ 
lic, with a letter to their master, wherein he ex¬ 
horted him, in the most pressing terms, “ Not 
to violate the laws of hospitality by which they 
were joined ; to remember the alliance he had 


6 Livy, 1. 29, c. 23. 


F 



66 


/ 


entered into with the Roman people; and above 
all things, not betray his faith, honour, and 
conscience: and lastly, he adjured him to re¬ 
spect and fear the gods, the witnesses and 
avengers of violated treaties 1 ” 

To obviate the danger arising from such in¬ 
telligence transpiring, he framed an account di¬ 
rectly the reverse, which he took care should 
be made public amongst his troops. When this 
was done, Scipio gave orders that every thing 
should be prepared, as there was no longer any 
time to lose, in consequence of Syphax having 
dispatched, as he pretended to give out, am¬ 
bassadors for the sole purpose of discovering 
what motives could induce him to remain so 
long in Sicily. As soon as the fleet and army 
were ready for sea, and Scipio had received the 
orders of the senate for sailing, he commanded, 
when day appeared, an herald to proclaim si¬ 
lence ; and after having sacrificed to Jupiter and 
Neptune, he is said to have addressed his army 
in the following prayer, from the deck of the 
Pretorian ship. 

cc Ye gods and goddesses, who inhabit the 
lands and the seas, I pray and beseech you to 


7 Livy, 1. 29, c. 24. 


I 



07 


make whatever has been done, is doing, and 
shall be done hereafter, under my authority, 
turn out to the happiness of me, of the state, 
and people of Rome; of the allies, and of all 
those of the Latin name, who espouse my 
cause and follow my orders and auspices; and 
those of the Roman people by sea, by land, and 
the rivers. Favour all my undertakings, and 
further them with good increase. Grant us to 
return safe and without harm, after having con¬ 
quered all our enemies, adorned with spoils, 
laden with booty, and honoured with a tri¬ 
umph. Give us the opportunity of taking ven¬ 
geance on our foes, and grant, that whatever 
injury was intended to our state by the Car¬ 
thaginians, we may be enabled to retaliate the 
same on their own 8 .” 

When this prayer W’as ended, Scipio threw 
into the sea, according to custom, the foaming 
entrails of a victim, and immmediately after, by 
a trumpet, gave the signal for sailing 9 . As 


8 Livy, 1. 29, c. 27. 

9 Ipse alacer Sicula discedens Scipio terra 
Abscondil lath propulsis puppibus aequor, 

Cui numcn pelagi placaverat hostia taurus, 

Jactaque cacruleis iunabant lluctibus exta. 

Si li us, 1. 17, 1. 48. 



68 


soon as his fleet was drawing nigh the coast of 
Africa, he prayed to the gods that the first 
sight of land might be propitious to him and 
his country: and when he was informed that 
the first land that appeared in view, was called 
the Fair Promontory 10 , he hailed the omen, 
and exclaimed, a Let that be our place of land¬ 
ing ” 

The conquest of Spain, which would have 
been deemed sufficient in itself to have immor¬ 
talized any name, was only considered by Scipio 
as a preliminary step to that by which he was 
to climb to a much more glorious enterprise, 
the conquest of Carthage. The news of his 
landing flew like lightning through the country * 1 , 
and caused such confusion in the Capitol, that 
the alarm was sounded, and the gates and walls 
were manned as if the enemy was at hand. In 
a short time after his landing, Massinissa joined 
the Roman standard, a man who was burning 
with desire to make war against Syphax, by 
whom he had been deprived of all his heredi¬ 
tary possessions, and what particularly embit¬ 
tered his feelings, robbed of his betrothed wife. 

This junction of Massinissa with Scipio, in- 

10 Pulchri Promontorium, Livy, 1, 29, c, 27. 

1 Livy, 1. 29, c. 28. 



69 


spired the Romans with new confidence, and 
gave them an assurance that their general had not 
deceived them, when he spoke of the friends and 
allies they were to meet with in Africa. In this 
expedition, Scipio’s usual success attended him 2 , 
for history tells us, that within the space of 
three years, lie destroyed two armies, took and 
burnt two camps, made Syphax prisoner, re¬ 
called Hannibal from Italy, whom he con¬ 
quered at Zama, and dictated to Carthage the 

1 « 

conditions of peace. But there are some inte¬ 
resting features in the melancholy detail of bat¬ 
tles and slaughter, that merit particular atten¬ 
tion, of which the story of Sophonisba appears 
the most conspicuous. This celebrated woman 
was the daughter of Asdrubal, the son of Gisco, 
and is represented by every historian, as pos¬ 
sessing extraordinary beauty, great talents, cap¬ 
tivating manners, and a courage above her sex. 
When Sophonisba was very young, Asdrubal 
betrothed her to Massinissa, in order that he 
might bind him the more securely to the inte¬ 
rest of Carthage ; but the moment that that 
gallant prince was dispossessed of his kingdom, 
her father broke his promise, and gave her to 
Syphax, who, unmindful of all former engage-. 

2 Florus, 1. 2, c. 6. 


i 



7 o 


merits with Scipio, entered into a new alliance 
with the Carthaginians 3 : of this the Roman 
general received intelligence previous to his sail¬ 
ing from Sicily. 

In the further prosecution of the war which 
was carried on by the Romans in Africa, Mas- 
sinissa succeeded in vanquishing all his enemies. 
In a last decisive action, he overcame Asdrubal 
and Syphax, of whom the latter being made 
prisoner, was sent afterwards in chains to Rome 4 . 
The young Numidian, elated with his success, as 
well as with the approbation of his general, for 
his gallant conduct, asked permission to advance 
with the cavalry, and Syphax in custody, to 


5 Virgo erat exinrua specie, claroque parente, 
Asdrubalis pioles, thalamis quam caepit ut aids, 

Ceu lace succensus prim a, taedaque jugali 
Vert it opes gener ad Pcenos, Latiaeque soluto 
Foedere amicitiae, dotalia transtulit arma. 

Si li us, 1. 17, 1. 71. 

4 The capture of Syphax when fallen from his horse, 
is thus mentioned by SiJius Italicus, in his 17th Book, 

Invadunt, vanumque fugas, atque adtollere fessos 
Adnitcntem artus, revocato a vulnere telo, 

Cortipiunt: turn vinela viro. manicaeque, pudendum! 
Addita, et exemplum non unquam fidere latis , 
Sceptrii’eras arta palmas vinxere catena. 



71 


Cirtha 5 , the capital of the kingdom. On Ills arrival, 
he ordered the principal inhabitants to be invited 
to a conference. As they were ignorant of their 
king’s misfortune, neither Massinissa’s relation 
of what had passed, nor his threats nor persua¬ 
sions produced any effect, until their king was 
shewn them in chains. The sight of Syphax in 
a condition of such fallen grandeur excited a 
general consternation; some in terror deserted 
the walls, others ran to conciliate the favour of 
the conqueror, and all seemed inclined to give 
him a civil reception. 

Massinissa, as soon as he had placed proper 
guards around the town, and taken care that 
none should make their escape, advanced with 
all speed to take possession of the palace, in the 
vestibule of which appeared in all her beauty 
the wife of Syphax. The instant the queen 
discovered in the midst of a body of armed men 6 , 
a person distinguished by the splendour of his 
armour, the richness of his dress, and a cer¬ 
tain air of superior dignity, and judging rightly 
this must be Massinissa, she immediately fell 
down at his feet, and thus addressed him : 
(e The gods, your valour, and fortune, have 

5 Cirtha caput regni Syphacis erat.— Livy. 

6 Livy, 1. 30, c. 12. 


\ 



7 2 


made you arbiter of our fate. But if a captive 
woman may be permitted to use the language of 
a supplicant, before him who has the disposal of 
her life and death; if it may be allowed her to 
touch his knees and victorious right hand; I be¬ 
seech you, by the majesty of a king, with which 
we were so lately invested, by the name of Nu- 
midian, which we bear in common with Syphax, 
and by the guardian deities of this palace (O 
that they may receive you under happier au¬ 
spices, than they have sent Syphax from it!), by 
all the aforesaid ties, I implore you to grant me 
this one favour—that you will yourself dispose 
of me according to your pleasure, and not suffer 
me to fall into the power of any proud or cruel 
Roman. Were I but the wife of Syphax, I had 
rather trust to the honour of a Numidian, to one 
wanned by the same sun with myself, than to 
any alien born in a strange country. You are 
ignorant of what a Carthaginian and a daughter 
of Asdrubal, has to dread from a Roman—I,” 

“ Who in my veins from Asdrubal deriv’d, 

u Hold Carthaginian enmity to Rome.” 

“ If you can bv no other means than by death, 
secure me from the power of the Romans, I ask 
this as the last and greatest favour you can be^ 
stow.” 

f 


Whilst she Was imploring for mercy, her 
entreaties were more like the blandishments of 
love than the supplications of pity; and as such, 
failed not to make a deep impression on Mas- 
sinissa’s heart. He looked tenderly on Sopho- 
nisba, and as his heart was of the most tender 
mould, he held out to her his right hand, as an 
assured pledge of the performance of what she 
asked, without once taking into consideration 
the difficulties attending its execution 7 . But 
when he began to reflect by what means he was 
to accomplish his engagement, and being in¬ 
capable of devising any that were practicable, 
he had recourse to one that was both imprudent 
and desperate, inasmuch as it was suggested by 
the most violent of all passions, that of love. 
He resolved on immediately marrying her, sup¬ 
posing that no Roman could think of treating 
the wife of Massinissa as a prisoner of war. So- 
phonisba herself was of opinion, that by acced¬ 
ing to the wishes of Massinissa, she should be 
protected from Roman malice; nay, she flattered 
herself with the hopes of raising up to Rome a 
dangerous enemy out of a faithful friend. 

7 Massinissa, who was but a subaltern in the Roman 
army, had no right to make such a promise.— Universal 
History. 



74 


Soon after the marriage was concluded* 
Laelius arrived, and so far was he from giving 
his approbation to what had passed, that he was 
almost resolved to drag her from the nuptial 
bed, and send her with Syphax, and the other 
prisoners to Scipio; but at length he suffered 
himself to be persuaded by Massinissa, who be¬ 
sought him to refer the whole business to the 
judgment of the commander-in-chief. 

Then Laelius sent Syphax to the Roman camp, 
and proceeded to the subjugation of the remain¬ 
ing part of Numidia, which, with the assist¬ 
ance of Massinissa, he soon reduced to the 
dominion of Rome. As soon as Syphax’s ar¬ 
rival was annoncced in the Roman camp, it 
ministered to every one abundant matter of dis¬ 
course: the mighty armies he had lately brought 
into the field, and his princely entertainment of 
Scipio and Asdrubal, when Rome and Carthage 
courted his friendship, added to other considera¬ 
tions of past and future fortune, all tended to 
excite various sensations, not only of joy, but 
sorrow 8 . Even Scipio himself was deeply affected, 

s Ducitur ex alto dejectus culmine regni, 

Qui modo sub pedibus terras, et sceptra, patensque 
Litora ad Oceani sub nutft viderat aequor. 

Silius, 1 . 17 , 1 . 143 . 



75 

t 

when he compared the former situation of Sy- 
phax with what it was at present; and when 
he called to his remembrance the sacred rites of 
hospitality, the private amity, and public alli¬ 
ance they had contracted together. He asked 
Syphax what induced him, not only to forsake 
the friendship of the Romans, but to make war 
upon them without any provocation ? 

Syphax scrupled not to declare, u that he had 
greatly erred, and acted under an impulse of in¬ 
sanity; but not at the time when he took up 
arms against the Romans; for that act was the 
consequence of his madness, not its commence¬ 
ment.He said, his entire conduct was to be 
ascribed to the counsels and intrigues of Sopho- 
nisba, whose irresistible charms had deprived 
him of his reason, and made him prefer Car¬ 
thage to Rome: adding, that the principal source 
of his misfortune flowed from having received a 
Carthaginian wife into his house— 

-“ Yes, she, the fury: she 

Who put the nuptial torch into my hand. 

That set my throne, my palace, and my kingdom. 
All in a blaze." 

Then, to awaken suspicion and distrust in 
Scipio’s mind, Syphax concluded with saying, 

That in the midst of all his calamities, he had 


/ 





76 

the consolation of seeing the same fury, the 
cause of his own ruin, transplanted into the 
house of his most deadly foe.'’—On hearing 
this, Scipio was greatly troubled in his mind, 
and perplexed at the idea of this perilous woman 
robbing him of Massinissa, as she had done of 
Syphax. Fears were naturally entertained, that 
the dominion she had gained over the mind of 
Massinissa, would soon enable this artful woman 
to draw him into all her views and ambi¬ 
tious schemes. In this doubtful state of Scipio's 
mind, Massinissa and Lselius arrived ; and both 
were courteously received by their commander- 
in-chief, and commended in public for their 
great services in the late expedition. After 
shewing the Numidian this public mark of his 
attention, Scipio gave him a private audience 9 , 
in which he most candidly remonstrated with him 
on the subject of Sophonisba, and told him that 
her life was now in the absolute power of the 
Romans, and that her enmity to Rome was 
not to be extinguished. In consideration of 
which, he implored him to moderate his affec¬ 
tion, and not tarnish the memory of his merito¬ 
rious services, (for which lie should be amply 


9 Livy, 1, 30, c. 14. 




77 


rewarded), by a fault, too great to be exte¬ 
nuated even by what had given rise to it 10 . 

Massinissa blushed and wept; and after a 
severe struggle between affection and ambition, 
was at length forced to sacrifice the former to 
the views of aggrandisement, and the prosperity 
of his kingdom. In compliance, however, with 
a promise exacted from him by this extraordi¬ 
nary and high-minded woman, rather to suffer 
her to die, than fall into the hands of the Ro¬ 
mans, he retired in great sorrow and confusion 
from Scipio’s tent to his own; 

For grief finds charms in solitude itself. 

After spending some time in sighs and groans, 
which, says Livy, were distinctly heard by those 
who stood on the outside of the tent, he called 
to him a trusty slave, who had the charge of 
his poison, (which princes used to have in rea¬ 
diness for all such vicissitudes of fortune as ren¬ 
dered existence intolerable), and tempering a 

,0 Appian says, that Scipio at first only desired Massi¬ 
nissa to deliver up Svphax’s wife; that the prince refusing 
to comply, the general sharply forbad him to think of 
keeping by force, what of right belonged to the Roman 
people; and having commanded him to give up the prey, 
added, that then, if he pleased, he might petition for it. 



78 


potion of it for Sophonisba, sent it to her, with 
the following impressive admonition : that (since 
his actions were now no longer in his own 
power) she should, as a Carthaginian, as the 
daughter of Asdrubal, as the wdfe of two kings, 
to whom she had been married, consult her 
own safety in the way most becoming her high 
character. 

When the magnanimous Sophonisba heard 
this, she said, “ I accept with gratitude this 
pleasing, though fatal nuptial present 1 II , since it 
is all that Massinissa has to offer his queen. Tell 
him I should have died with more honour, had 
I not married on the very brink of the grave.” 
When she uttered these words, she shew'ed the 


1 Quel present nuptial d’un epoux a son femme; 
Qu’au jour d’un hymenee il lui marque de flame; 
Reportez, Mazetulle, a vostre illustre roy 
Un secours dont luy-mesme a plus besoin que moi, 

II ne manquera pas d’en faire un digne usage 
Dbs qu’il aura des yeux a voir son esc.Iavage. 

Mais quant a Sophonisbe, il m’est permis de dire 
Quelle est Carthaginoise, et cet mot doit suflire. 
Elle meurt a mes yeux, mais elle meurt sans trouble, 
Et soutient en mourant la pompe d’un couroux 
Que semble moins mourir, que triomphe de nous. 

Corn eille — Sophonisbe. 



79 


cup to her nurse, and entreating her not to 
lament her death, boldly drank off the poison, 
without changing colour or expressing a single 
complaint 1 2 . Few deaths have been so truly 
heroic as Sophonisba’s, without complaint, re¬ 
proach, or regret. We should despise Massi- 
nissa, could we suppose, that a curule chair, a 
purple robe, or a chain of gold, were capable of 
giving him the least consolation. Yet the am¬ 
bitious may imagine that he found some allevia¬ 
tion to his sorrows in the name of king, and in 
the hopes of being soon requited for such ser¬ 
vices with the sovereignty of all Numidia. 

1 Ilia inanfi pateramque tenens, et lurnina ccelo 
Attollens, sol aline, inquit, superique valete: 
Massinissa vale, nostri memor : inde malignum 
Ceu sitiens haurit non raota fronte venenum, 
Tartareasque petit violentus spiritus rembras. 

Petrarch— Africa:. 

These lines, which close the life of the magnanimous 
Sophonisba, are taken from the long neglected poem, 
entitled Africa , written by Petrarch, and are peculiarly 
striking. There are many other passages in the same 
poem conceived with great force and fire, and expressed 
with equal elegance of language; among which, Hayley, 
in his hostorical notes, notices the lines which describe 
the anguish of the young Numidian prince when he is con¬ 
strained to leave his bride, and those which announce So- 
phonisba’s first appearance in the regions of the dead. 



80 


When Scipio was made acquainted with the 
tragical catastrophe, he sent for Massinissa, and 
afforded him all the comfort in his power, from 
an apprehension lest his melancholy might lead 
him to some desperate act. But in time the 
caresses of Scipio, and the solid benefits confer¬ 
red upon him by the Romans, served to efface 
all remembrance of the daughter of Asdrubal, 
and of his early attachment. 

Appian says, that Massinissa, after exposing 
to the Romans Sophonisba’s dead body, gave it 
a funeral worthy of a queen. It has been asked, 
was there no other way by which Massinissa 
could have delivered his bride from Roman seve¬ 
rity ? Might he not by a separation, and a 
promise never to see her more, have secured her 
liberty and life ? As Massinissa, without a mo¬ 
ment's hesitation, preferred the most violent 
means, it is probable he was well acquainted 
with the unalterable firmness of Scipio, in the 
resolution he had adopted } . The late defection 

3 “ Massinissa knew, (says Lord Lyttelton, in one of 
his Dialogues), that Sophonisba’s ruling passion was am¬ 
bition, not love. He could not rationally esteem her. 
when she quitted Syphax, whom she had ruined, who had 
lost his crown and his liberty in the cause of her country, 
and for her sake, to give her person to him, the capital 
foe of that unfortunate husband. He must, in spite of 



81 


of Syphax was a powerful instance of the bane- 

i 

ful ascendancy of Sophonisba’s charms ; and as 
Scipio was acquainted not only with this predo¬ 
minant influence of the queen* but with her 
eternal enmity to the Roman people* he conse¬ 
quently dreaded a like effect on the mind of 
Massinissa. These considerations* added to a 
Roman’s love of his country * * * 4 , which was a pas¬ 
sion too strong to be restrained within the more 
confined limits of common morality* hardened 
his heart, and rendered him not only unfeeling* 
but inflexible on the occasion. 

Another feature in this war* is one to which 
Polybius particularly alludes* and as it serves 
to exalt Scipio’s character as a soldier, \ shall 
briefly notice it. He attacked by night, and 
burnt the two camps of Asdrubal and Syphax, 
and destroyed in a few hours an army consisting 
of forty thousand men* with a loss too inconsi- 


his passion, (concludes his Lordship), have thought her a 

perfidious, a detestable woman.’’—Hence, perhaps, Mas- 

sinissa’s easy compliance with the wishes of Scipio. 

4 The false notions, says Melmoth, which the Romans 
had embraced concerning the glory of their country, 
taught them to subdue every affection of humanity, and 
extinguish every dictate of justice which opposed that 
destructive principle. 

Gr 



82 


derable to be noticed in history. The assault of 
the Romans was so sudden, that Syphax fled 
naked out of his bed, and with great difficulty 
made his escape from the flames 5 . The infor¬ 
mation on which Seipio planned and executed 
this exploit, was not exactly procured in the 
most honourable manner, for it was obtained by 
a stratagem almost amounting to a breach of 
faith; but which was considered as allowable 
by the laws of war, and of a war carried on 
against the people of Africa. Alas, poor Africa! 
from that time until the present, thy sons have 
been exposed to the insolence, and insults, and 
cruel traffic of a world always boasting of its su¬ 
perior civilization. 

Though Seipio, says Polybius, was distin- 


5 Sentitur plerisque prius quam cernitur, ignis 
Excitis somno, multorumque ora vocantOm 
Auxilium invadunt flammae. Fluit undique victor 
Mulciber, et rapidis complexibus arma virosque 
Corripit: exundat Pestis, semustaque castra 
Albenti volitant per nubila surama favilla. 

Ipsius ingenti regis* tentoria saltu, 

Lugubre increpitans, latb circuinvolat ardor: 
Haussissitque virum, trepidus ni clade satelles 
E somno ac stratis rapuisset multa precantem. 


* Syphax. 



I 


83 

guished by a series of brilliant actions, there was 
none, in his judgment, among all he performed, 
so glorious and adventurous as the atchievement 
just noticed. Before he undertook it, says 
Appian, he sacrificed to Courage and Fear, that 
none of his men might be struck with a panic by 
night, but, on the contrary, that all might do 
their duty without any interruption. It is men¬ 
tioned, that of the spoils taken from the enemy, 
he made an offering of them, out of gratitude, 
to the God of Fire. It is a most lamentable re¬ 
flection, to think with what indifference great 
victories are perused ; when, if men were but 
to consider the sorrow attending every individual 
that falls in battle, their hearts, hardened as 
they generally are by bad education, would be 
softened. Were the very conquerors themselves 
to have beheld the horrid scene 6 that must have 
presented itself to their eyes on the following 
morning, is there one of them would not have 

6 Livy describes it: Multos in ipsis cubilibus semisom- 
nos hausit flamma, multi in praecipiti fuga, ruentes super 
alios alii; in angustiis portarum obtriti sunt. Ambusti 
homines, jumentaque faedii primum fuga, dein strag6, 
obruerant itinera portarum. Quos non oppresserat ignis, 
ferro absumpti: binaque castra clade una deleta.— Livy, 
1. 30, c. 5-6. 


G 2 



84 


been shocked at the sight ? Though the lives of 
human creatures are a consideration as light as 
air, in the scale of restless and insatiable ambi¬ 
tion, yet their preservation is the dearest and 
most sacred of all objects to the heart of religion 
and humanity. 

Sir Walter Raleigh, in speaking of war, says, 
that there is no profession more unprosperous 
than that of military men and great captains, 
being no kings ; for besides the envy and jea¬ 
lousies of men, the spoils, rapes, famine, and 
slaughter of the innocent 8 , vastation and burn¬ 
ing, with a w r orld of miseries laid on the labour¬ 
ing man, all so hateful to God, as with good 
reason did make Monluc, the marshal of France, 
confess, “ That were not the mercies of God 
infinite, and without restriction, it w T ere in vain 
for those of his profession to hope for a portion 
of them \ seeing the cruelties by them permitted 
and committed, were also infinite 9 . And how, 
(continues the same writer), have the greatest 

8 Cicero describes some of the horrors of war: Vastan- 
tur agri, diripiuntur villa:, matres-familias, virgines, pueri 
ingenui abripiuntur, militibusque traduntur. 

9 Tous les vices reunis de tous les ages, et de tons les 
lieux n’egaleront jamais les maux, que produit une seule 
campagne.— Voltaire. 



85 


warriors, even those whose virtues have raised 
them above the level of their inferiors, been re¬ 
warded ?—with disgrace, with banishment, and 
death;” 

But to return to the African war, of which one 
of its most important features was the revoca¬ 
tion of Hannibal from Italy. When the Cartha¬ 
ginian heard the words of the ambassadors who 
were sent to recall him, it is said he gnashed his 
teeth, and groaned, and was scarcely able to 
refrain from tears 10 . Hannibal’s departure this 
year from Italy, proved some consolation to 
Rome for the recent death of Fabius, a man who, 
by his victorious delays, baffled all the schemes 
of the Carthaginians, and who, by the character 
he displayed as a soldier, deservedly merited the 
appellation of Maximus. 

And thou, great hero, greatest of thy name * 1 , 
Ordain’d in war to save the sinking state, 

And by delays, to put a stop to fate. 

10 Ductor defixos Itala tellure tenebat 

Intentus vultus, manantesque ora rigabant 
Per taciturn lachrymae, et suspiria crebra ciebat. 

Silius, 1. 17, 213, 

Livy, 1. 30, c. 20. 

1 Unus homo nobis cunctando restituit rem. 

Virgil. 

-par ingenium castrisque, tog$que. 

Silius. 



After the ambassadors had delivered their 
message, Hannibal said, fC It is now I am indeed 
recalled, and that not ambiguously, but expli¬ 
citly. My enemies, it is true, have been for 
some time past dragging me home, by withhold¬ 
ing the necessary supplies of men and money. 
But remember, it is not the Roman people, 
whom I have so often beaten, that have subdued 
Hannibal; it is the base Senate of my own 
country, moved by the paltry motives of envy 
and jealousy. Scipio is not the man who will 
liave so much reason to triumph in my recall as 
Hanno, who has at last succeeded in burying 
our family under the ruins of Carthage; and 
that, because he had no other way of accom¬ 
plishing their ruin.” 

Hannibal had long foreseen what his ungrate¬ 
ful country now effected, and had ships always 
in readiness for his departure. Never did an 
exile 2 feel more regret in leaving his native land, 
than he did in quitting Italy. Often did he cast 
his eyes on her retiring shores, and often, says 
Livy, did he call down curses on his head, for 
not marching to Rome after his victory at 


" Uaud secus ac patriam pulsus dulcesque penates 
Linqueret, et tristes exsul traheretur in oras. 

Silius, 1. 17, 216, 



87 


Cannje 3 . Melancholy was his voyage from Italy 
to Africa, and sorrowful were his reflections, as 
often as he thought of the last sixteen years of 
his life. 

As soon as he came within sight of land 4 , he 
asked one of the sailors to tell him what part of 
the coast they were coming to. The sailor 
said, they were making to a place where he dis¬ 
covered the ruins of an old sepulchre. Hannibal 
startled at the sound, bade the pilot pass on as 
fast as he could. Soon after the whole army 
landed at Leptis, a place of little consequence, 
situate between Susa and Adrumetum. After 
refreshing his troops, he advanced to Adrume¬ 
tum, and then proceeded to Zama, a town of 
Numidia Propria, within five days’ journey of 
Carthage. From this place he dispatched spies 5 , 
to learn, if possible, the situation and strength 
of the Roman force 6 . These spies were soon 

3 Quid: tunc sat compos qui non ardentia tela 
A Cannis in templa tuli Tarpeia? Jovemque 
Detraxi solio ? Sparsissem incendia montes 
Per septem bello vacuos, gentique superb® 

Iliacum exitium, et proavorum fata dedissem. 

Sinus, 1. 17, 225. 

♦ Livy, 1. 30, c. 25. 

5 Livy, 1. 30, c. 29. 

6 Valerius Maximus, 1. 3, c. 7. 


t 



88 


apprehended, and though it is customary in all 
nations to put them to instant death, Scipio 
issued orders for conducting them through the 
camp and army, and then dismissed them 7 , with 
full permission to report all they had seen to 
their general. By such confidence of mind, he 
dampt the courage of the enemy, before he 
vanquished their arms. Hannibal was greatly 
affected by the magnanimity which Scipio dis¬ 
played on this occasion ; just as, it is said, he 
had been before, by an answer which the Roman 
general made to some persons who were calling 
down vengeance on the heads of the Carthagi¬ 
nians for the violation of a treaty. iC The crime 
of which the Carthaginians have been guilty, in 
despising the most sacred, and respected rights, 
is not enough to justify me in following their 
example.” Such instances of magnanimous 
feeling, induced Hannibal to offer proposals of 
peace, (to which the Roman general assented), 
and to propose an interview for taking the same 
into consideration. This meeting took place in 
an open plain, which lay extended between the 
two armies, called Nadagara, 

7 Prandium dari jubet exploratoribus, dimittique, ut 
renunciaret Hannibali, quae apud Romanos vitlissent.— 
Eutropius. 



89 


-Before the battle join’d, 

The world's two captains, (for besides them, none 
Merits the name in equal competition) 

Met to have conference, where, for a space 
They stood astonish’d at each other’s presence 8 . 

The Roman was in the prime of life, and 
possessed all the advantages which characterize 
manly beauty. He was tall and graceful in his 
person, of a benign countenance, and engaging 
aspect. The Carthaginian was almost the very 
reverse: his countenance bore the deep impres¬ 
sions of many a hard-fought field : and this, 
added to the loss of an eye, gave a peculiar 
sternness to his whole appearance. 

Hannibal is thus reported to have addressed 
the Roman 9 : “ As the fates have decreed that 
I, who first made war on the Roman people, 
should be the first to sue for peace, I am glad 
it is to you, Scipio, 1 am come to solicit it. I 
am glad it is to the son of that man I am come, 
over whose father I was formerly victorious. 
He was the first Roman general with whom I 
fought; and it is to his son I am now come un- 


s Scipio and Hannibal, an historical tragedy, by Tho¬ 
mas Nabbes, 1637. 

? Livy, 1. 30, c. 30. 





90 




armed, to ask for peace. It will not, I think, be 
considered as the least glorious event in your 

i 

illustrious life, that Hannibal, to whom the gods 
granted victory over so many Roman captains, 
has laid the palm of victory at your feet; and 
that you should be the man to put an end to a 
war, which is more memorable by your defeats, 
than by ours. Such an incident as this is well 
entitled to a place amongst the singular sports 
of fortune. O that the gods had given our an¬ 
cestors that moderation, which I hope inspires 
us both this day;—that pacific spirit I mean, 
which would have made you content with the 
dominion of Italy, and ourselves with that of 
Africa. What an effusion of blood might not 
then have been spared, for which no trophies 
of victory, no rewards of valour, can make now 
any compensation? For my part, I have re¬ 
ceived so much instruction from age, coming 
home an old man to my country, which I left 
when a boy; and so much also from both ad¬ 
versity and prosperity, that I feel well inclined 
to follow reason, rather than fortune. You are 
a young man, and not yet tutored in the school 
of adversity, and will probably pay little atten¬ 
tion to my suggestions : nay, I fear your youth, 
in consequence of uninterrupted success, will 


91 


prompt you to reject all offers of peace. The 
man whom fortune has never forsaken, seldom 
reflects on her inconstancy. You are now, 
Scipio, what 1 was at Thrasymene, and Cannae, 
when I was considering with myself in what 
manner l should dispose both of you and your 
country. Behold now the change:—behold 
Hannibal in Africa, who, after encamping 
within five miles of Rome, is come to treat 
with a Roman, not only for his own safety, but 
for that of his country. 

£C It may be asked here, is fortune to be 
trusted because she smiles? A secure peace is 
ever to be preferred to the hope of victory. 
The first is in your own power, the latter in that 
of the gods. Peace is the end of all victory, and 
that is what my country now sends me to offer. 
Leave not to the chance of an hour, that ho¬ 
nourable fame, which an age of victories has 
given you. One hour may strip you of all your 
glory. It you conquer, little will be the addi¬ 
tion made to your glory : if you are conquered, 
all your glory will perish. 

“ I know it is the privilege of him who grants 
peace, not of him who asks it, to prescribe its 
conditions. I allow there is reason for your 
distrusting the faith of the Carthaginians, be- 


I 


92 

cause they violated the late treaty ; but it should 
be recollected, that the observance of treaties, 
and the preservation of peace, greatly depends 
on the honour of him who sues for it. A want 
of character in our ambassadors is said to have 
been a principal reason for the rejecting our 
late petition in favour of peace. But it is Han¬ 
nibal who now sues for peace, and who would 
not sue for it, if he did not think it expedient, 
and who, for that reason, independent of all 
others, will faithfully maintain it; and in the 
consideration of having conducted the late war, 
to which I was so accessary, in such a prospe¬ 
rous way, as to give no man reason to com¬ 
plain, till the gods themselves grew jealous of 
my glory, so I shall now exert all my endea¬ 
vours, that no man may have cause to complain 
of the peace obtained by me.” 

To this Scipio is said to have made the fol¬ 
lowing reply 10 : “ Notwithstanding the Cartha¬ 
ginians have violated their solemn plighted 
faith, and the laws of nations, with respect to 
ambassadors, yet I shall not treat them in a 
way unbecoming the honour of the Roman 
people, nor the principles of moderation which 


10 Livy, 1. 30, c. 31. 



93 


have always been the rule of my own conduct. 
The treaty of peace, Hannibal, to which you 
have alluded, was violated by your countrymen, 
in consequence of the hopes which were held out 
of your return. Even during the continuance 
of that treaty, some gross outrages W’ere com¬ 
mitted, that still call aloud for redress, and which, 
if fully and fairly atoned for, might probably 
lead to a new treaty. No man is more sensible 
of the inconstancy of fortune than I am, nor 
more aware of the thousand casualties to which 
every military exploit is particularly liable. 

te In the wars you have noticed, Hannibal, 
the Carthaginians were always the aggressors; 
and of all people, they should be the last to 
complain of their consequences. The Cartha¬ 
ginians, I repeat it, were always the first to 
commence hostilities; and the gods, by giving 
victory to those who were unjustly attacked, 
shewed that they directed the issue of them 
according to right and equity. For my part, 
- I can never condemn myself for engaging in a 
defensive war, founded on justice and necessity, 
which alone can legitimate war, and make it 
virtue. In fine, if in addition to the terms on 
which peace was intended first to have been 
made, (and with them you are already ac- 


94 


quainted), a full compensation be given for the 
seizing of our ships, and stores, during the ex¬ 
istence of the truce; and for the insult offered 
to our ambassadors, I shall then have matter to 
lay before my council. But if all this seem too 
severe, prepare for war, since you could not en¬ 
dure peace.” 

The sentiments expressed by Scipio, in justi¬ 
fication of war, are congenial with those which 
always actuated the Emperor Antoninus Pius 1 , 
who never engaged in any hostile contest but 
upon absolute necessity, and in actual self-de¬ 
fence. This illustrious man loved peace, and 
was desirous of maintaining it. By this hu¬ 
manity of disposition, he was not only beloved 
by his subjects, who considered him more in 
the light of a father and protector, than a mas¬ 
ter, but by all foreign princes and nations, who 
admired his goodness and equity. His power 
and virtue filled them with profound respect for 


1 This excellent emperor held the sound opinion of 
Caius Pontius, the general of the Samnites, on the sub¬ 
ject of war: “ Justum est Bellum, Samnites, quibus ne - 
cessarium, et pia anna, quibus nulla nisi in armis relin- 
quitur spes.”—Liv. 1. 9, c. 1. 

This was the opinion of the late Mr. Fox, a man of 
the most enlightened understanding that ever lived. 



95 


his character; and as he never made war from 
motives of ambition upon people who continued 
in peace, so other nations were neither able nor 
willing to interrupt this tranquillity, which was 
more glorious to him than the most splendid 
triumphs in war. During his entire reign, he 
persevered in the design of maintaining the dig¬ 
nity of the empire, without attempting to en¬ 
large its limits. By every honourable expedient 
he invited the friendship of foreign nations, and 
endeavoured to convince mankind that the Ro¬ 
man power, raised above the temptation of con¬ 
quest, was actuated only by the love of order 
and justice. Whilst he lived, the Roman name 
was revered among the most remote nations of 
the earth. If the sentiments that influenced and 
guided the conduct of this truly virtuous empe¬ 
ror, were imprinted on the minds of every sove¬ 
reign in Europe, the title of most Christian might 
he applied not in mockery, but in reality, to 
each of them. 

Peace, says Silius Italicus 2 , is one of the 

a -Pax optima rerum, 

Quos homini novisse datum est, pax una triumphis 
Innumeris melior, pax custodire salutem, 

Et cives square potens. 

Silius. 


i 




96 


greatest blessings known to mortals: peace 
brings along with it more honours than myriads 
of triumphs: peace is that which can alone main¬ 
tain public safety and equality amongst men. 

Homer introduces Jupiter, expressing his dis¬ 
pleasure against the god of war, in the follow ¬ 
ing words: 

Of all the gods that in Olympus dwell, 

Thou art to me most hateful; for in strife, 

In war, and battles, ever is thy joy. 

In another passage, the same divine author 
introduces Nestor, the wisest of his heroes, ex¬ 
pressing his displeasure against the man who 
takes pleasure in war: 

Curs’d is the man, and void of law and right,' 
Unworthy property, unworthy light; 

Unfit for public rule, or private care, 

That wretch, that monster, who delights in war; 
Whose lust is murder, and whose horrid jov, 

To tear his country, and his kind destroy. 

Of the same sentiments is Euripides, who ex¬ 
presses himself in the following lines on the 
same subject: 

Parent of wealth, celestial Peace, 

Thou fairest of the heavenly train, O why, 


97 


Why this delay? Wilt thou again 

These longing eyes ne’er visit ? How I fear 

That age, insensible and cold, 

My trembling limbs, will seize, e’er I shall hail 
The moment of thy blest return 
W ith the crown’d banquet, and the choral song. 

But to return to our conference, from which l 
fear I have digressed too much : it ended with¬ 
out any accommodation, and the two generals 
retired each to his camp. Preparations were now 
made by both, for determining the mighty con¬ 
test- by the last, and worst of all appeals, the 
sword : the Carthaginians were to contend not 
only for their own safety and security, but for 
that of all Africa; and the Romans for the em¬ 
pire of the whole world. Never was there a 
more momentous contest 5 , whether we consi¬ 
der the characters and abilities of the two illus¬ 
trious generals, the high military prowess of the 
two armies, the magnitude of both states, or the 
consequence that was to follow. Scipio, as he 
was marching to battle, told his men, “ that the 


-Non alio graviores tempore vidit, 

Aut populos tellus, aut, qui patria arma moverent, 
Majores certare duces. Discriminis alta 
In njedio merces, quidquid tegit undique ccelum. 

Silius, 1. 17, 1. 387. 


H 



98 


gods 4 had shewn them the same prodigies, under 
the auspices of which their fathers had fought 
and conquered at the islands iEgates. The end 
of the war, and of all their toils, (he added), was 
now at hand; the plunder of Carthage within 
their grasp, and a speedy return to their homes, 
their country, their parents, their children, their 
wives, and household gods.” These words he 
uttered in an erect attitude 5 , and with a coun¬ 
tenance so animated with joy, that he seemed 
as if he had already obtained the victory. 

Though I have declined entering into a parti¬ 
cular detail of any part of Scipio's military con¬ 
duct, from a conviction of not being able to 
throw any new light on it, yet the battle of 
Zama holds such a conspicuous place in the his¬ 
tory of the world, as makes an account of it ne¬ 
cessary, which I shall take the liberty of tran¬ 
scribing from the History of the Progress and 
Termination of the Roman Republic, a work 
which constitutes a valuable addition to the lite- 

4 Le merveilleux de cette enterprise infernale, (says 
Voltaire), c’est, que chaque chef des Meurtriers fait benir 
ses drapeaux; et invoque Dieu solemnement avant d’aller 
exterminer son prochain. 

5 Celsus base corpore vultuque ita lseto, ut vicisse jam 
crederes, dicebat,— Livy, 1, 30, c. S2. 



99 


rature of the country, and gives its author a 
most respectable rank among our greatest histo¬ 
rians. 

“ Hannibal formed his army in three lines, 
with his elephants in front 6 . Scipio arranged 
his men in their usual divisions 7 , but somewhat 
differently disposed. Hannibal had above eighty 
elephants, with which he proposed to begin the 

6 Neither Polybius nor Livy mention the number of 
troops Hannibal and Scipio had at Zama. 

7 Ces deux ordres de bataille, (observes Folard), sont 
uniques et fort singuliers. Celui de Scipion est tres 
remarquable et digne de l’admiration des spavans dans la 
tactique et dans l’etude de l’infanterie. Si Ton veut bien 
faire attention a cette disposition du general Romain, on 
conviendra qu’il ne s’est rien pratique dans l’antiquite de 
plus merveilleux et de plus parfait dans la disposition de 
l’infanterie dans de la faire combattre et de se ranger. 
Ce n’est pas la ruse et la valeur des troupes que deci- 
dent d’une action si fameuse, c’est Intelligence, c’est 
l’habilit^ du general qui connoit parfaitement la force de 
l’infanterie et la methode de la faire combattre. Annibal, 
a qui cette maniere de combattre, et de se ranger etoit 
auparavant inconnue, pouvoit dire comme Lysandre, qu’il 
avoit 6t6 vaincu non faute de courage, mais dart. L’on 
peut dire que cette journ^e est celle de toute I’antiquite, 
ou il se soit passi des choses plus extraordinaires; autant 
dans ce que regarde l’obstination des combattans, que 
dans l’art et la conduite des generaux. 

H 2 


I 



100 






action. Behind these, he drew up the merce¬ 
nary troops, composed of Gauls, Ligurians, and 
Spaniards. In a second line he placed the Afri¬ 
cans, and natives of Carthage, with a legion of 
Macedonians ; and in a third line, about two 
hundred yards behind the first, he placed the 
veterans, who had shared with himself in all 
the dangers and honours of the Italian war. He 
placed his cavalry in the wings, opposite to those 
of the enemy. 

“ Scipio posted Leelius, with the Roman ca¬ 
valry, on the left; and Massinissa, with the Nu- 
midian horse, on the right. He placed the 
companies or divisions of the legions, not as 
usual, mutually covering their intervals, but 
covering each other from front to rear. His 
object in this disposition, was to leave continued 
avenues or lines, through which the elephants 
might pass, without disordering the columns. At 
the head of each line he placed the velites, or 
irregular infantry, with orders to gall the ele¬ 
phants, and endeavour to force them back upon 
their own lines; or, if this could not be effected, 
to fly before them into the intervals of the 
heavy-armed foot, and by the ways which were 
left open between the companies, to conduct 
them into the rear. 


>' > 


101 


“ As soon as the cavalry began to skirmish on 
the wings, Hannibal gave the signal for the ele¬ 
phants to charge, but such a terrible shout was 
raised by the Romans, that they were thrown 
into great disorder. Besides, they were received 
by such a shower of missile weapons from their 
light infantry, that, as usual, they carried their 
riders in different directions. Some broke into 
their own line with considerable confusion; others 
fled between the armies, and escaped by the 
flanks; and many, incited with rage, as Scipio 
had foreseen, pursued the enemy that had galled 
them, through the intervals of the Roman divi¬ 
sions, quite out of the action; and in a little 
time the front of the two armies was cleared of 
these animals, and of all the irregulars who had 
skirmished between them in the beginning of the 
battle. In the mean time, the first and second 
line of Hannibal’s foot had advanced, to profit 
by the impression which the elephants were 
supposed likely to make. The third line still 
remained on its ground, and seemed to stand 
aloof from the action. In this posture, the first 
line of the Carthaginian army, composed of 
Gauls and Ligurians, engaged with the Roman 
legions, and after a short resistance, were forced 
back on the second line, who having orders not 



102 


fco receive them, nor allow them to pass, pre¬ 
sented their arms. The fugitives were accord¬ 
ingly massacred on both sides, and fell by the 
swords of their own party, or by those of the 
enemy. The second line, consisting of the Afri¬ 
can and native troops of Carthage, had a similar 
fate : they perished by the hands of the Romans, 
or by those of their own reserve, who had orders 
to receive them on their swords, and turn them 
back, if possible, against the enemy. 

“ Scipio, after so much blood had been shed, 
finding his men out of breath, and spent with 
hard labour, embarrassed with heaps of the 
slain, scarcely able to keep their footing on 
ground, become slippery with mud and gore, and 
in these circumstances, likely to be instantly 
attacked by a fresh enemy, who had yet borne 
no part in the contest, he endeavoured without 
loss of time, to put himself in a situation to 
renew the engagement. His cavalry, by good 
fortune, were victorious on both wings, and were 
gone in pursuit of the enemy. He ordered the 
ground to be cleared; and his columns, in the 
original form of the action, having been some¬ 
what displaced, he ordered those of the first 
line to close to the centre, those of the second 
and third to divide, and gaining the flanks, to 


103 


form in a continued line with the front. In this 
manner, while the ground was clearing of the 
dead, probably by the velites, or irregular 
troops, he with the least possible loss of time, 
and without any interval of confusion, completed 
his line to receive the enemy. 

“ An action ensued, which being to decide 
the event of this memorable war, was probably 
to remain some time in suspense; when the ca¬ 
valry 8 of the Roman army, returning from the 
pursuit of the horse they had routed, fell on the 
flank of the Carthaginian infantry, and obliged 
them to give way. Hannibal had rested his 
hopes of victory on the disorder that might arise 
from the attack of his elephants, and if this 
should fail, on the steady valour of the veterans, 
whom he reserved for the last effort to be made, 
when he supposed that the Romans, already 
exhausted in their conflict with the two several 
lines whom he sacrificed to their ardour in the 


8 Massinissa and Laelius commanded the Roman ca¬ 
valry, whose arrival was so seasonable, that it was ascribed 
to the favour of Heaven.— Polybius. 

The return of Massinissa and Laelius from the pursuit 
of the enemy’s horse, is said to have been most happy, and 
in a needful time .— Sip. W. Raleigh. 

The arrival of the Prussians, was no less seasonable to 
the Duke of Wellington, at the battle of Waterloo. 





104 

beginning of the battle, might be unable to 
contend with the third, yet fresh for action, and 
inured to victory. He was disappointed in the 
effect of his elephants, by the precaution which 
Scipio had taken in opening his intervals, and in 
forming continued lanes for their passage from 
front to rear ; and of the effect of his reserve, by 
the return of the enemy’s horse while the action 
was yet undecided. Having taken no measures 
to secure a retreat, nor to save any part of his 
army, he obstinately fought every minute of the 
day to the last, and when he could delay the 
victory of the enemy no longer, he quitted the 
field with a small party of horse, of whom many, 
overwhelmed with hunger and fatigue, having 
fallen by the way, he arrived with a few, in the 
course of two days and two nights, at Hadru- 
metum.'' , 

Hannibal, says Montesquieu, was conquered 
in a battle in which fortune seemed to delight in 
confounding his ability, his experience, and good 
sense. A peace followed, which closed the 
wounds of the second Punic war, in the seven¬ 
teenth year from its commencement, and of the 
city 551 9 . The Carthaginian displayed the abili- 

9 Finem accepit secundum Punicum bellum, post an-» 
num septimum decimum, quam caeperat.— Eutropius, 



105 


% 


ties of a consummate soldier; and if he was 
conquered, says Polybius, he may well be par¬ 
doned 10 ; for fortune sometimes counteracts the 
designs of valiant men, and sometimes, in con¬ 
formity to the proverb, 

A brave man, by a braver is subdued*. 

And this is all must be allowed to have hap¬ 
pened on the present occasion. The singular 
skill that Hannibal shewed in this his last fight, 
is highly commended by Polybius, and was 
acknowledged, as Livy reports, by Scipio him¬ 
self. But the enemies, adds Sir Walter Raleigh, 
were too strong for him in horse, and being en¬ 
joined, as he was by the state of Carthage, to 
take battle with such disadvantage, he could 
work no marvels. 

Hannibal retreated, as has been observed, to 
Hadrumetum after the battle, from whence he 


10 Le jour qu’elle fut donnee, Annibal se surpassa lui- 
meme, soit a prendre ses avantages, soil a disposer son 
armee, soit a donner les ordres dans le combat: mais 
enfin le genie de Rome Temporta sur celui de Carthage, 
et la defaite des Carthaginois laissa pour jamais l’empire 
aux Romains.— St. Evremond. 

1 EoQAoj wv , aXXa xpEiTToyof am rv ^ v . 



106 


was soon recalled to Carthage, where he had not 
been for the space of six and thirty years. When 
he appeared in the Senate, he allowed he was 
vanquished, and declared there was no other 
way of avoiding ruin than by making peace, the 
hard conditions of which, we know, were dictated 
by Scipio, and submitted to by the Carthagini¬ 
ans; which made Montesquieu say, that they 
received the conditions of peace, not from an 
enemy, but from a sovereign. 

The ambition of Scipio might have disposed 
him to press his victory to the utmost, in order 
that he might carry, instead of a treaty, the 
spoils of Carthage to adorn his triumph at 
Rome. But the eager impatience with which 
the consuls of the present and past year endea¬ 
voured to snatch out of his hands the glory of 
terminating the war, may, with other reasons 
of higher consideration, have induced him to 
receive the submission of the vanquished upon 
the first terms that appeared sufficiently ho¬ 
nourable, and adequate to the object of the 
commission with which he was entrusted. 
Whenever an allusion was made to this circum¬ 
stance, Scipio used to say, that Claudius, by 
his eagerness to supplant him in the command, 
had saved the republic of Carthage. But it 


107 


seldom happens that men act from any single 
motive, and Scipio may naturally be supposed 
to have had other and nobler ends in view, than 
the paltry jealousy arising from a successor; as 
it is now admitted upon good authority, that he 
spared the rival of his country for the purpose 
of maintaining an emulation of national courage 
and national virtue. This better motive was 
ascribed to him by Cato, his former quaestor, in 
a speech which he made in the senate before he 
died, one who was never known to flatter him, 
or any other man. 

On the conclusion of the peace, four thou¬ 
sand captives obtained their liberty, five hun¬ 
dred gallies were delivered up, and burnt, and 
the first payment of the stipulated sum de¬ 
manded. Whilst this last article was under con¬ 
sideration, some members of the Carthaginian 
senate were observed to weep: on seeing this, 
Hannibal smiled, and being questioned for of¬ 
fering such an insult to the public distress, he 
made this answer : “ That a smile of scorn for 
those who felt not the loss of their country, 
until it affected their own interest, was the 
strongest expression of sorrow for Carthage.” 

As the presence of Scipio was now no longer 
necessary in Africa, he made preparations for 
his departure \ but previous to its taking place. 


108 


he gave Massinissa entire posession of all Nu- 
midia, in which grant were included, not only 
the dominions of his old rival Syphax, but 
those of several other petty princes; all which 
acts of kindness were confirmed and ratified by 
a decree of the Roman senate. 

When Scipio's arrival was known in Italy 2 3 * , 
the joy became universal, from the Alps to the 
extremity of Calabria. As he proceeded to 
Rome, the people flocked from all parts of the 
country to enjoy the satisfaction of seeing their 
deliverer, to whose superior valour and good for¬ 
tune they thought themselves indebted for their 
present repose and tranquillity. The soldiers 
who attended him on the road, showed him to 
the husbandmen in their fields ; mothers pointed 
him out to their sons, and natives to foreigners, 
when he entered Rome 5 . 

The dumb men throng’d to see him, and the blind 

To hear him speak: the very nobles bended 

As to Jove’s statue, and the commons made 

A show’r and thunder with their caps, and shouts : 

I never saw the like 4- . 

a Livy, 1. 30, c. 45. 

3 Ilium omnis tectis agrisque effusa Juventus, 

Turbaque miratur matrum et prospectat euntem; 
Attonitis inliians animis. 


* Shakespear. 


Virgil, 1. 7. 



The joy of the capital was in proportion to 
their superior knowledge of his merits and ser¬ 
vices. The senate and people were equally 
unanimous in voting him a triumph, which was 
the most magnificent ever had been exhibited 
in Rome. He was honoured by the sirname of 
Africanus 5 ; but whether that proud distinction 
proceeded from the affections of the military, 
or the attachment of the people, is left unde¬ 
cided by Livy. He was the first Roman general 
who was distinguished by the appellation of the 
nation which he had conquered 6 ; a practice 
which succeeding times rendered too common 
in Rome, and which only served, says Livy, as 
a precedent with men, who possessed neither 
the merit, nor could arrogate to themselves the 
virtue of Scipio; but it gratified their vanity to 
multiply the names of their images, and to 


5 Scipio Romam rediit, et ingenti gloria triumphavit, 
atque Africanus ex eo appellari cajptus est.— Eutro- 
pius, 1. 3, c 23. 

6 Devictae referens primus cognomina terras. 

Silivs, 1. 17. 

t 

Et de tout ce qu’il fit pour l’empire Romain, 

11 n’en eut que la gloire, et le nom d’Africain. 

Corneille. 



110 


add new splendour to the titles of their fa¬ 
milies. 

Whether Syphax was led in triumph through 
the city, is doubtful: if he was, it is to be re¬ 
gretted that the generous soul of Scipio did 
not oppose the observance of so barbarous a 
custom 7 ; a custom which added insult to the 
calamities of princes, even though they had 
conducted themselves conformably to the rules 
of fair and honourable war. Can any thing be 
said in defence of a custom, which treats our 
fellow-men with contempt, insults them in their 
distress, and makes their misery a public spec¬ 
tacle of joy ? But when added to all this, the 
like affront was offered to crowned heads, and 
the gallant conduct of great captains, who^ be¬ 
fore the battle, held equal rank with their con¬ 
querors; this, I say, was a degree of inhu¬ 
manity, highly unworthy of a people eminent 
for their valour and wisdom, an unwarrantable 
forgetfulness of the instability of fortune, and 
an unpardonable insolence and arrogance, to 
which no parallel can be found in the practice 
of the most barbarous nations they conquered. 

7 See a letter of Melmoth, on the subject of Roman 
Triumphs. 


t 



Ill 


1 do not know, says Rollin, how Rome could 
justify acts of inhumanity, so contrary to that 
goodness and clemency, upon which she prided 
herself on all other occasions. No plea then 
can be urged in support of such an inhuman 
practice, except the bad one, which Horace 
has comprised in two lines, to flatter the pride 
and vanity of his countrymen : 

Res gerere et captos ostendere civibus hostes , 

Attingit solium Jovis, et celestia tentat. 

According to the account of Appian, Syphax 
was not exhibited in the triumph, for being un¬ 
able to endure the taunts of an unfeeling rabble, 
he died by abstinence. The death of Syphax, 
says Livy, caused some diminution in the splen¬ 
dour of the triumph, but none in the glory of 
the general who triumphed. His death took 
place a short time previous to his exhibition, 
and made some noise, from being followed by 
a public funeral. 

In opposition to both testimonies, Polybius 
writes, that the king of the Masssesylians was led 
a captive in the procession 8 , and died some 

8 Ante Syphax feretro residens, captiva premebat 
Lumina, et auratae servabant coila catenae. 

Snr us, 1. 17. 




112 


time after in prison. But it was not the person 
of the unfortunate Syphax, supposing he made 
one in the procession, nor any other circum¬ 
stance of that nature, which added so much tc 
its real glory, as did the heartfelt feelings that 
arose in the minds of the Roman people, on 
the conclusion of a war which liberated Italy 
from the yoke of a formidable foe, and afforded 
them the prospect of domestic peace, which 
they almost despaired of seeing in their time. 
This was the cheering sentiment that made 
them look with such transport on the author of 
so happy a change, and filled them with a joy 
which they were scarcely able to moderate. 
When the glories of his triumph ended, a suc¬ 
cession of games and spectacles followed, that 
lasted for several days; the expences attending 
which, were defrayed by Scipio, with his accus¬ 
tomed generosity. In process of time he was 
advanced to all the dignities of the republic, 
which he discharged with the purest honour. 
In five hundred and fifty-three, the second year 
after the battle of Cannse, the senate and people 
appointed him censor, on the very first vacancy- 
in the office. This magistracy was the most re¬ 
spectable in Rome, and was conferred only on 
such perons, as were become, if the expression 


N. 


113 


is admissible, the first citizens in the republic* 
in consideration of their talents and meritorious 
services. Besides, the honour of being de¬ 
scended from a Censorian family, was reckoned 
the brightest gem in the scutcheon of Roman 
nobility. The people were delighted to see him 
as much distinguished by the first rank in the 
republic, as he ever was by his superior virtues. 
The high opinion entertained by the nation of 
his military character, was surpassed by the 
disinterested manner in which, as a citizen, and 
as a magistrate, he discharged all such civil em¬ 
ployments as were committed to his care. 

The next office he filled, was that of prince 
of the senate, and this w r as always bestowed by 
the censors, on the citizen the most eminent for 
his honours and services. This appointment 
took place in the year of the city 557, and two 
years afterwards he was elected consul a second 
time. Whilst in this latter office, he effected 
one particular reform, which proved to him 
ever after, a source of great uneasiness, in con¬ 
sequence of its being made the ground of a po¬ 
pular resentment that was never forgotten, or 
forgiven. Individuals, if insulted and injured, 
forget and forgive]—aggregate bodies, never. 
In the celebration of the great anniversary festi- 

i 


I 


114 


vals at Rome, no local distinction had ever been 
made between the senators and people ; all sat 
indiscriminately on the same benches. This 
custom, as being contrary to decorum and good 
order, Scipio altered, and gave to the senators, 
seats separate from those of the people. This 
reform 9 was considered by the latter, as a dar¬ 
ing violation of the apparent equality existing 
between the two orders, and was resented by 
them in the way most suitable to their usual 
turbulence and impatience. However, Scipio’s 
authority and character were held in such high 
estimation, that the alteration passed, in spite 
of all the popular clamour raised against it. Of 
this measure, Scipio, it is said, repented before 
he died, dreading a too great ascendancy of the 
aristocracy in a republic, wherein an equality 
among the several orders of the citizens, con¬ 
stituted the fundamental principle of the go¬ 
vernment. Besides, he had fears lest the pride 
of the Patricians should give them such a supe¬ 
riority over the people, as might at a future day, 
cause one of their body to arise with ambition 


9 A reform, says Polydore Virgil, quod et vulgi 
animum avertit, et favorem Scipionis magnopere .quas- 
savit. 



115 


and character enough 10 to attempt a change in 
the constitution of the state, and destroy it by 
the usurpation of absolute power. 

In the year of Rome 558, commissioners were 
sent by the senate to Carthage, to discover, if 
possible, the designs of the Carthaginians, and 
to learn whether any correspondence existed be¬ 
tween them and Antioch us; at the same time 
they were desired to demand that Hannibal, who 
was supposed to be the principal agent in con¬ 
ducting it, should be given up to them. This 
proposition, so little to the honour of the re¬ 
public, had been settled in a private conference 
with some of the chief senators of Carthage; 
but the moment Scipio became acquainted with 
its object, he reprobated it in the following 
language * 1 : “ Is it becoming the dignity of the 


IO Cesar maitre et souverain de Rome verifie dans la 
suite la justesse de ses conjectures.— Seran de Latour. 

1 Livy, 1. 33, c. 47. 

Scipio resisted like a gallant gentleman all the violence 
of his country, in its persecution of the great man he 
had conquered at Zama, and assigns his reason, “ quia 
parum ex populi Romani dignitate esse ducebat, sub- 
scribere odiis accusationibusque Hannibalis, et factionibus 
Karthaginiensium inserere publicam auctoritatem, nee 
satis habere bello vicisse Hannibalem, nisi velut accusa- 

i 2 





116 


Roman people to countenance the cabals and 
factions of Carthage, and to support them with 
the authority of the republic ? Is it decent for 
Roman ambassadors to appear in the vile cha¬ 
racter of the accusers of Hannibal ? We have 
conquered him in the field, our victory was 
honourable: every thing beyond that is un¬ 
just.” 

Hannibal was soon apprised of the designs of 
his enemies, both at Rome and Carthage, and 
saw immediately that he had no resource but in 
flight: therefore, without making any delay, he 
repaired to Antiochus King of Syria, whom he 
found in actual state of military preparation. 
As soon as intelligence reached Rome, that 
Hannibal had gone to the court of Antiochus, 
ambassadors were at once despatched there, to 
denounce him as their enemy, and to warn his 
Syrian Majesty against listening to any insinua¬ 
tions that might have come from him, to the 
prejudice of the interest and honour of the re¬ 
public. 


tores calumniam in eum Jurarent, ac nomen deterrent.” 
Herein Scipio reprobates the interference of the Roman 
state, which would have brought it into the situation of 
a common prosecutor in a court of justice. 



/ 


117 

Livy affirms from the history of one Claudius, 
then in his possession, that Scipio was among 
the ambassadors, and then tells us the illustri¬ 
ous conversation, which was supposed to have 
passed at an interview in Ephesus 2 , between 
him and Hannibal. Scipio, according to the 
historian, asked the latter, whom he thought 
the greatest general ever lived? the Carthagi¬ 
nian replied, Alexander the Great. And whom 
the second ? Pyrrhus; and whom, continues the 
Roman, do you consider the third ? myself cer¬ 
tainly. Yourself, returned Scipio, and what 
would you have said, had you conquered me ? 
Then, replied Hannibal, I should have ranked 
myself not only before Alexander, and Pyrrhus, 
but all other generals, that ever existed. This 

a Whilst Hannibal was at Ephesus, we are told that, 
at the request of some friends, he attended the lectures 
of a renowned philosopher of the name of Phormio. The 
lecturer fully apprised of the great character that was 
present, harangued for a considerable time on the duties 
of a general, and the whole military art. When he had 
finished his discourse, the company seemed highly de¬ 
lighted : on which, one of them asked Hannibal what he 
thought of their lecturer? The Carthaginian very frankly 
answered, that he had seen many a silly old fellow in his 
life, but such an old blockhead, he had never seen be¬ 
fore.— Cicero de Ouatore, 1. 2, c. 18. 



118 


conference has been made by Lucian, the sub¬ 
ject of one of his very entertaining dialogues. 
This compliment was so ingeniously applied, 
that it distinguished Scipio from all other great 
captains, not only as being their superior, but 
as being above all comparison, which, at the 
same time that it flattered the polite Roman, 
paid the highest compliment to his own abili¬ 
ties. Livy admits the compliment, but ascribes 
it to Punic artifice; a comment so illiberal on 
the part of the Roman historian, proves how 
much he wrote under the influence of prejudice, 
and partiality. 

In consequence of the civilities that passed 
between Hannibal and the Roman commission¬ 
ers at this interview, the former sunk consider¬ 
ably in the estimation of the great King. Ap- 
pian ? , in noticing this conference, says, that 
Hannibal asked Scipio, to partake with him in 
the rights of hospitality, with which, Scipio 
would most cheerfully have complied, had he 
not been apprehensive of incurring the displea¬ 
sure of his friends at Rome : the situation of the 
Carthaginian at this time, in the court of An- 
tiochus, being what made all intercourse on the 


3 Appian de Bello Syriaco. 



119 


part of the Roman, a matter of peculiar delicacy. 
This was the way, continues Appian, in which 
these great captains, by a generosity worthy of 
themselves, measured their enmities only by the 
wars in w T hich they were engaged. 

About this time it was thought that Scipio 
felt a desire to leave Rome, in consequence of 
the ingratitude of his countrymen, which was 
beginning to shew itself in a way peculiarly 
wounding to his feelings. His mortification 
first arose, from having his recommendation in 
favour of Scipio Nasica, and Caius Laelius re¬ 
jected; and in the second place, from having the 
very honor he solicited for his cousin and friend, 
conferred on a man, who had neither talents 
nor services to favour his suit. Surely it might 
have been supposed, says a modern historian, 
that the greatest man in the republic, might 
have had a majority of suffrages in favour of any 
candidate he espoused; and yet, strange as it 
may appear, he was disappointed. Scipio’s 
glory, it is true, was the greater, but it was on 
that account exposed to greater envy. By his 
long residence in Rome, the people became fa¬ 
miliarized to his sight 3 and by seeing him every 
dav, their admiration sunk into indifference ; so 
true is the old saying, that too much familiarity 


120 


is oftentimes productive of not only neglect, but 
contempt. 

We now come to the year of the city 561, 
when Lucius Cornelius Scipio, the brother of 
Publius 4 , and Cains Laelius, his intimate friend, 
were appointed consuls, a year in which the 
war broke out between the Romans and An- 
tiochus, surnamed the Great. The two consuls 5 
were connected with Africanus, both by blood 
and friendship, which are ties the most powerful 
in the intercourse of life. Each had his heart 
fixed upon Asia, and this circumstance gave 
rise to a debate in the senate, on the distribu¬ 
tion of the Provinces. The fathers were di¬ 
vided in their opinions, but the majority were 
more disposed to favour the pretensions of Lae- 
lius, whose reputation was better known than 
his rival, and yet his colleague was not destitute 
of military merit: his services under his brother 
in Spain 6 , among which was numbered, his 


4 Creatus igitur consul Lucius Scipio: cique datur le- 
gatus frater Africanus, ut intelligeret Antiochus, non 
majorem fiduciam se in Annibale victo, quam Romanos 
in victore Scipiotie habere.— Justin. 1. 31, c. 7. 

5 Cicero, Philippic 11th.— Val. Maximus, 1. 5, c. 5. 

6 In Hispania egregias res egit Scipio, et per se, et per 
ftutrem suum Lucium Scipionem.— Eutropius. 



121 


taking the town of Oringis, having given him 
character as a soldier. Africanus, anticipating 
what the determination of the senate might be, 
and what would be the mortification of his bro¬ 
ther, if disappointed, put an end to the debate 
with the following few words: “ Conscript Fa¬ 
thers, if you will confer the province of Asia on 
my brother, I will serve under him in quality of 
lieutenant/"’ This humble declaration was 
heard with such perfect approbation, that the 
controversy was instantly at an end, and the ap¬ 
pointment made out agreeably to his wish. Italy 
was assigned to Laelius, and Asia to his more 
favoured colleague. 

The splendour of Africanus’s military talents, 
should not diminish our respect for his domestic 
virtues, for though he had commanded the 
armies of the republic, during the greater part 
of his life, he now condescended to accept the 
subordinate rank of lieutenant under his brother; 
a situation in which he manifested as much sa¬ 
tisfaction, as if the entire command had been 
conferred on himself. 

In the space of two years Lucius Scipio, aided 
by the counsels of his brother, obtained a com¬ 
plete victory over Antiochus at Magnesia, which 
was followed by a peace, whose conditions were 


dictated by the conquerors. The senate and 
people were so well satisfied with Lucius's con¬ 
duct, that when he returned to Rome, he was 
saluted with the sirname of Asioticus 1 , in the 
midst of the triumph which was then decreed 
him. Africanus was greatly pleased with the 
honours that were bestowed on his brother, and 
never lost any opportunity of ascribing to him, 
the entire merit and success of the campaign 7 8 . 

The victory gained by Lucius Scipio, says Sir 
Walter Raleigh, merited the title of Asiaticus, 
though the virtue requisite to the purchase 
thereof, was in no way correspondent. The 
modesty and humility of Africanus’s whole de¬ 
meanour, during the time of his brother’s tri¬ 
umph, gained him more genuine applause, than 
what could have been derived from the most 
brilliant success; and the senate and people 


7 Lucius Scipio Romam rediit, ingenti gloria trium- 
phavit, nomen et ipse ad imitationem fratris, Asiatici 
accepit, quia Asiam vicerat, sicuti frater ipsius propter 
Africam domitain Africanus appellatur. —Euthopius, 1. 4, 
c. 4. 

8 Some writers suppose, that Scipio affected indispo¬ 
sition, and remained at a distance from the camp, in 
order that his brother might have the sole merit of the 
victory. 



123 


were so sensible of the manner in which he con¬ 
ducted himself on the occasion, that they with 
one voice, hailed him a second time prince of 
the senate. 

As in the preceding notice of Africanus’s mi¬ 
litary life, attention was principally paid to the 
interesting circumstances attached to it, so in 
the following view of the war with Antiochus, 
we shall not depart from the same plan. The 
situation 9 in which Scipio first offers himself to 
our consideration, is one wherein he is placed 
by Heraclides the Byzantian, who was dis¬ 
patched to the Hellespont by Antiochus, to make 
the following proposals of peace to the consul, 
which were to this effect :—“ that he, (An¬ 
tiochus), would resign all his pretensions in 
Europe, together wfith the cities of Asia, that 
were then in alliance with Rome, and bear, be¬ 
sides, half the expcnce, that the Romans had 
incurred by the present war.’' 

In answer to these proposals, the consul in¬ 
sisted, first, on the king’s paying the whole ex¬ 
pence of the war; next, on his confining himself 
within Mount Taurus ; and, lastly, on his mak¬ 
ing compensation to Eumenes for whatever in- 


* 


Livy, 1. 37, 34, &c. 


9 



124 


juries he had suffered. As the ambassador con¬ 
sidered these conditions intolerable, he applied 
in private to Africanus, (to whom he was or¬ 
dered to pay particular attention), and offered 
him the restoration of his son, (who by some 
accident had fallen into the hands of the great 
king), and with him a partnership in his king¬ 
dom, if he would be content without the title 
of king. In what manner the son of Africanus 
became the prisoner of Antiochus, is not ascer¬ 
tained among the historians 10 . One circum¬ 
stance is mentioned to the credit of the great 
king, which is, that he paid as much attention 
to his education, as if he had been his own son. 
From such treatment Antiochus expected some 
consideration from the father, in the proposals 
he had offered ; and from the love which Scipio 


10 Appian says he was taken prisoner by Antiochus in 
Greece, as he passed from Chalcis to Demetrias. From 
Pliny, it would appear as if the youth had been taken in 
the last great battle of Magnesia, wherein he must be mis¬ 
taken. His words are : “ Tabulam victoriae suae Asiaticae 
in Capitolio posuit Lucius Scipio: idque aegrh tulisse fra- 
trem Africanum tradunt, iratum haud immeritb, quoniain 
filius ejus in illo praelio captus fuerat” —Plin. 1. 35, c. 4. 

Filium (Africani) quern rex (Antiochus) parvo navigio 
trajicientem ceperat. L. 31, c. 7 .—Justin. 



/ 


125 


had for his child, his hopes of success were not 
diminished. The answer which Africanus made 
the ambassador, was to the following effect: 
“ I am not so much surprized that you are un¬ 
acquainted with the character of the Romans 
and of me, to whom you are sent, as I am, that 
you are totally ignorant of the fortune and situa¬ 
tion of him who has sent you. If your master 
had any idea, that a concern about the probable 
event of the war would have induced us to make 
peace with him, he should never have let us set 
foot on Asiatic ground. But having once per¬ 
mitted us to pass the Hellespont, he has by this 
act received our yoke, to which he should now 
submit with patience, and not pretend to treat 
on the ground of equality. As to myself perso¬ 
nally, I shall consider the king’s restoring to me 
my son, as the noblest present his generosity 
can make me ; any other instance of his libera¬ 
lity, my mind certainly will never require. I 
pray the Gods, my fortune never may. If Antio- 
chus will be content with my personal acknow¬ 
ledgment for a personal favour, he shall ever 
find me sensible and grateful; but, in a public 
capacity, I can neither give him any thing, nor 
receive any thing from him. Go then, and carry 
this answer to your king; and tell him, he is 


12G 


undone if he perseveres in the war, his true in¬ 
terest being to make peace with the Romans, on 
whatever terms they are pleased to grant.” 

As soon as the ambassador found that the 
proposals of his master were rejected, he de¬ 
parted; and after making a report of them to his 
own court, it is said Antioch us shewed signs of 
the most violent rage 1 , declaring, <e that he was 
not yet reduced to such a desperate condition, 
as to suffer himself to be stripped of his king¬ 
dom, and that the proposals made him were 
rather incentives to war, than inducements to 
peace.” 

When Africanus began to reflect on the peri¬ 
lous situation of his son, and what might be the 
consequence of his answer to Heraclides, he was 
so overcome by the poignancy of his feelings, 
that he fell sick in the neighbourhood of Elaea, 
in iEtolia. As soon as the great king heard of 
his indisposition, he behaved like a truly great 
man, and sent him his son without a ransom 2 . 
Scipio’s joy was so great at seeing his child, that 


1 Aucra ? k Gpoyy uXto kou 

Homer. 

2 Livy, 1. 37, c. 37. 

It is said he sent the boy regiis muncribus donatus .— 
V. Maximus. 



127 


his disorder assumed a most favourable com¬ 
plexion, which laid the foundation of an almost 
immediate recovery; for as the present was 
highly grateful to the mind of the father, so 
was the satisfaction which it gave, no less sa¬ 
lutary to his body. To the deputies of Antio- 
chus, who came with the youth, Scipio gave the 
following answer: “ When you return, tell your 
king that I thank him; and at present can make 
him no other return than my advice, which is, 
that he should not come to an engagement until 
he hears that I have joined the army. 5 ’-—It is 
hard, says a modern historian 3 , to guess what 
was the real import of such advice, if it was not, 
as another writer 4 observes, that Scipio might 
have hoped, that by the delay of a few days, 
the king would have had time to make more 
serious reflections, than what he had done on the 
subject of concluding peace; for had he not en¬ 
tertained some such opinion, of what use could 
his presence have been to Antiochus in the day 
of battle ? 

As soon as Scipio was recovered from his in¬ 
disposition, and able to travel, he set out from 


3 Hooke. 

4 Rollin. 


i 



128 


Elaea ; but previous to his arrival at Sardis, the 
battle of Magnesia was fought and won. Some 
writers, partial to the character of Africanus, are 
of opinion that he affected indisposition, from 
a desire not to rob his brother of any share in 
the glory, wdiieh against the present enemy, he 
perceived might be easily gained. The adjust¬ 
ment of the terms of the peace which followed 
the victory of Magnesia, was entirely entrusted 
by the consul to the care and management of 
his brother Africanus, who was in every point 
of view more qualified for the business than 
himself. 

From the anxiety Antiochus had of procuring 
peace on any tolerable terms, he despatched am¬ 
bassadors to the Roman camp, to ofiler his sub¬ 
mission. On arriving, they made their applica¬ 
tion to the consul, through the mediation of 
Africanus, from whom, in consideration of what 
had past, they conceived hopes of obtaining 
more favourable conditions. A council was sum¬ 
moned, to hear what they had to propose, w hen 
Zeuxis, the chief of them, spoke to this effect: 
“ We are not come, Romans, to make any pro¬ 
posals on our part, but only to know from you, 
by what means our king may expiate his fault, 
and obtain from his conquerors forgiveness and 


129 


peace. We know it has always been your prac¬ 
tice, with a becoming magnanimity of soul, to 
pardon the kings and nations you have subdued: 
your present victory, which has given you the 
dominion of the whole world, requires a more 
illustrious manifestation than ever of that mag¬ 
nanimity. You have it now in your power, Ro¬ 
mans, after the example of the immortal Gods, 
laying aside all contention whatever with mortal 
beings, to protect and spare the human race 5 .’* 
The answer returned by Scipio to the depu¬ 
ties, having been previously prepared by his 
council, was to the following effect: <c Of what 
is in the power of the immortal gods, we Ro¬ 
mans possess just as much as they are pleased 
to bestow. Our courage, which is under the 
direction of our own mind, is the same in every 
vicissitude of fortune: what it was yesterday, 
the same it is to-day; it is neither elevated by 
prosperity, nor depressed by adversity 6 . The 


5 Livy, 1. 37, c. 33. 

6 Such was the sentiment of the heathens; but Chris¬ 
tianity gives us very different notions, and teaches us to 
believe that virtue is wholly the gift of God. It is sur¬ 
prising how men of such enlightened minds should have 
been so grossly mistaken, as never to have reflected upon 
the weakness of human nature, and how easily it is 

K 



130 


peace will become disadvantageous to the king, 
in the exact proportion of his fortunes becoming 
every day more precarious by means of delay. 
If he makes any hesitation in accepting the 
terms which are now offered, let him know, that 
it is more difficult to pull down the majesty of 
kings from the highest to the middle condition 
of life, than it is, from that intermediate state, 
to hurl it down to the very lowest.” 

One of the conditions of peace made with 
Antiochus was, that Hannibal should be deli¬ 
vered up to the Romans, it being supposed that 

turned aside from the path of virtue. Hear what Horace 
says, in opposition to this light of revelation: 

Sed satis est orare Jovem, quae donat et aufert, 

Det vitam, det opes: aquum mi animum ipse parabo. 

And tvhat Cicero says, in his Natura Deorum: Atque 
hoc omnes mortales sic habent, externas commoditates ... 
a diis se habere: virtutem autem nemo unquam acceptam 
deo retulit. Nimirum recte*«**Nam quis, quod bonus 
viresset, gratiasdiis egit unquam? At quod dives, quodho- 
noratus, quod incolumis* -Judicium hoc omnium mor* 
talium est, fortunam a deo petendam, a seipso sumendam 
esse sapientiam. 

“ The impious arrogance of this opinion of almost all 
heathens, (says Walker, in his excellent edition of Livy), 
is confuted not only by true philosophy, but by the Christian 
revelation, which is ever consonant to true philosophy” 



131 


no peace could be maintained with any prince 
who should afford the Carthaginian an asylum. 
Antioch us, to his eternal honour, is said to have 
rejected such a condition ; and in the considera¬ 
tion ol its being one disgraceful in itself, we will 
venture to assert it was never required by Scipio, 
but by his unforgiving country. The continued 
persecution of Hannibal, and the vindictive spirit 
with which it was carried on, were very unbe¬ 
coming the dignity and manly character of the 
Roman people. 

When at length this great, but as yet ill un¬ 
derstood general, found that no asylum was to 
be had in the court of Prusias, king of Bithy- 
nia 7 , (to which he had fled on the first suspicion 
entertained of Antiochus's fidelity), he withdrew 
to the castle of Libyssa 8 , wherein he shut him- 


7 Exitus ergo quis est? O gloria, vincitur idem 

Nempe, et in exilium praeceps fugit, atque ibi magnus 
Mirandusque cliens sedet ad prsetoria regis, 

Donee Bithyno libeat vigilare tyranno. 

Juvenal. 

s In Bithynia vicus est juxta littus, de quo vulgatum 
carmen erat— 

“ Corpus Hannibalis Libyssa tumulabit terra.” 

In Pliny's time, nothing remained of the place butHanni^ 
bal’s tomb. 

K 2 



132 


self up; and whilst there, he employed most of 
his time in forming subterraneous passages, by 
means of which he might make his escape, in 
case of being discovered and assailed by Roman 
malice. The moment intelligence reached him 
that the castle was surrounded by soldiers, and 
that every outlet was closely beset, he hesitated 
not an instant in preferring death to slavery : he 
resolved to die 9 . Then taking the poison in his 
hand, which he had always kept in readiness, as 
a sure antidote against the sharp diseases of ad¬ 
verse fortune, he is said, when just in the act 
of swallowing it, to have spoken in the following 
terms 10 : “ Let us deliver the Romans from the 
disquietude which has so long haunted them, 
and makes them so impatient to await the death 
of a poor old man. The time was, when they 
were under the influence of more generous feel¬ 
ings ; yes, the time was, when they were known 

9 Finem animae, quae res humanas miscuit olim. 

Non gladii, non saxa dabant, non tela, sed ille 
Cannarum vindex, et tanti sanguinis ultor 
Annulus- 

Juvenal. 

s ° Livy, 1. 39, c. 51. 

Liberemus cura populum Romanum, &c. 

Livy. 




133 


to warn their enemy 1 against impending danger. 
But at present what is their conduct ? They 
basely send an embassy to seek the life of an 
exiled man, and to induce a feeble monarch to 
violate the laws of hospitality.” When he had 
uttered these words, he drank off the poison, 
and died as he had lived, with the most intrepid 
magnanimity 2 ! His death reflected an eternal 
ignominy and disgrace upon the Romans, whose 
insatiable thirst of power and empire, had ex¬ 
tinguished all generous sentiments, and every 
spark of virtue in their minds. 

This great man breathed his last, in the year 
of Rome 5J0, and seventieth year of his age, 
and was buried, according to the account of 
Aurelius Victor, in a stone coffin at Libyssa, on 
which were only engraved the four following 
words: “ Annibal hie situs 3 est” Livy closes 


1 Pyrrhus. 

2 -Ac placidis exarraat fata venenis— 

There, dauntless as he liv’d, the envenom’d bowl, 
Freed from his bonds of flesh, his struggling soul, 
And unpropitious, even in death, to Home, 

His death upbraids her from the silent tomb. 

Jephson’s Roman Portraits. 

3 Siti dicuntur illi, qui conditi. 

Sylla was the first of the Patrician branch of the Cor- 




134 


his eventful life in one brief sentence: “ Hie 
vitas exitus fuifc Hannibalis.” Had Hannibal, 
whose tragical end we have just related, been 
the lawful sovereign of the Carthaginians, or 
one who could have commanded by his own 
authority, such supplies as the war wherein he 
was engaged, required ; it is probable, writes 
Sir Walter Raleigh, that he would have torn up 
the Roman empire by the roots. But he was 
so strongly opposed by a cowardly and envious 
faction at home, that his own virtue, destitute 
of public force to sanction it, did at last dis¬ 
solve, not only in his own ruin, but in that of 
his country and commonweal. 

Before we have done with the Asiatic war, one 
circumstance merits particular attention, as far 
as it serves to evince the respect which was ever 
paid by Scipio to the established religion of his 
country, whenever he could make it subservient 
to its interests * * * 4 . The prodigies reported of his 
own birth, together with the opinions enter¬ 
tained of his familiar intercourse with the gods, 

nelian family, whose body was not interred. It was 

feared that his bones might one day be treated as he 
had treated those of Marius, which he had caused to be 

dug up, and thrown into the river. 

4 Livy, 1. 37, c. 33. 



135 


seemed, as it were, to inspire him with the ne¬ 
cessity of respecting the forms and ceremonies 
of the religion in which he was educated. 

History informs us, that after the army of the 
Scipios passed the Hellespont, and lay en¬ 
camped on its shore, the time arrived of cele¬ 
brating the festival of the Sacred Bucklers, during 
which, all persons belonging to the sacred col¬ 
lege of the Salii, were not permitted to march 5 . 
This anniversary feast caused a temporary sepa¬ 
ration of Africanus from the army, because he, 
as a member of that body, was obliged to attend 
to its due celebration. On the appointed day, 
he appeared at the head of the procession as 
Praesul, in the usual robes of the order, con¬ 
sisting of an embroidered tunic, bound round by 
a girdle, which was fastened with buckles of 
brass, a high cap of a conical form on his head, 
a sword by his side, with a spear in one hand, 
and a shield called ancile, or the shield of Mars, 
in the other. Thus equipped, he led the mys¬ 
terious dance, and joined in singing hymns in 
honour of the god Mars, the patron of the day. 

Seneca 6 , in alluding to the effeminate dancing 

5 Dies religiosi ad iter sunt, quibus per religioneoi non 
licet iter facere. 

6 Seneca de tranquillitate animi. 



136 


of his own time, says, that the great Scipio, 
though accustomed to camps, and honoured with 
triumphs, used oftentimes to dance to the sound 
of music. His dancing was of that manly, free, 
and noble kind, such as those ancient worthies 
were wont, in solemn, or in festive seasons, 
to practise ; and of which they had no cause to 
be ashamed, had they been witnessed by their 
enemies. 

Scipio celebrated the festival with more than 
usual splendour, on account of its being the 
first time in which it was exhibited to a foreign 
people. He had also an idea, that nothing 
could tend more to inspire the troops with ne¬ 
cessary courage for a new war, than the assu- 
ranee that they were to fight under the imme¬ 
diate protection of the god of battles. 

After peace was concluded between the Ro¬ 
mans and Antiochus, and the troubles of Asia 
ended, the spirit of dissention, which the dan¬ 
gers of a foreign war seldom suffered to rear its 
head, broke out at Rome, and blazed with con¬ 
siderable violence. The over-zealous republi¬ 
cans of that period took pleasure in prosecuting 
the chief men of the state, conceiving, probably, 
that it was a degree of refined policy to humble 
those in time of peace, whom they had raised 


137 


to the highest stations in time of war. Two 
tribunes of the people, of the name of Petilii, 
in the year of Rome 565, at the instigation of 
Cato, (who seems to have inherited all the 
prejudices of Fabius Maximus, against the cha¬ 
racter of Scipio, in addition to his own), un¬ 
dertook to accuse Scipio and his brother Lu¬ 
cius, of embezzling the public money that was 
taken in the Asiatic war, and of receiving 
bribes from Antiochus. This proceeding was 
variously construed, according to people’s diffe¬ 
rent dispositions ; some blamed not the plebeian 
tribunes, but the public in general, for suffer¬ 
ing such a process to be carried on. Such was 
the reward which the two Scipios were doomed 
to reap from their country, for subduing the 
last enemy who could have disputed with Rome 
the sovereignty of the world: for after the fall of 
the great king, kingdom after kingdom tumbled 
into their lap. 

The jealousy of Cato sprung originally from 
Africanus’s appointment to the command of the 
army in Spain, and certainly that jealousy was 
not diminished by his subsequent successes in 
that country, all being considered by the rigid 
censor, as so many laurels snatched from his 
own brow. Ambition, observes Sir Walter 


138 


Raleigh, was the vice of Cato, which being 
poisoned by envy, troubled both himself and 
the whole city, whilst he lived : and as his birth 
was humble, he hated the nobility, and spe¬ 
cially such as were of the highest estimation. 
At the suggestion of Cato 7 , the two tribunes 
already noticed, moved in the senate, that Afri- 
canus should be cited to give an account of all 
the money he had received from the great king, 
together with such spoil as was taken in that 
war. A prosecution of this kind must appear 
strange, and almost unaccountable, when we 
call to our recollection the sentiments of grate¬ 
ful admiration that were lately entertained in 
his favour, and which are noticed by Valerius 
Maximus in the following strain of praise and 
panegyric 8 : 6 ‘ Our ancestors,” whites that au¬ 
thor, cf were not deficient in expressing their 
gratitude, nor backward in bestowing such re¬ 
wards as were due to the elder Africanus, for it 
was an object of their highest ambition, to adorn 
his greatest enterprises with becoming honours. 
They wished to place his statues in their courts 


7 As soon as Cato saw the republic in a condition to do 
y'ithout Africanus, he resolved to destroy him. 

8 Val. Maximus, 1. 4, c. 7. 




139 


of j ustice, in their halls of public debate, and 
even in the very chapel of Jupiter the omnipo¬ 
tent ; nay, his image, adorned with triumphal 
robes, they were desirous of laying on the holy 
couches of the gods in the Capitol. Had he 
pleased, he might have been consul for life, and 
perpetual dictator 9 . But he declined all these 
marks of popular and senatorial favour, and ac¬ 
quired more credit by refusing them, than he 
would have gained by accepting them 10 .” 

Surely those distinguished instances of high 
forbearance, noticed by Valerius Maximus, are 
sufficient to demonstrate an uncommon great¬ 
ness of mind, which was able to adjust itself to 
the temper of a constitution founded on an equa¬ 
lity of rights. But what then must be thought 
of them, says Livy, when they were acknow¬ 
ledged by an enemy 1 , at the very time he was 
employed in censuring him ? To prosecute him ? 
of whom such sentiments were entertained, is 


9 These extraordinary honours were offered him, it is 
said, on his return to Rome, after the conquest of Africa. 

10 Quorum sibi nullum neque plebiscito, neque senatus 
consulto decerni patiendo, pene tantum in recusandis ho- 
noribus se gessit, quantum gesserat in emerendis.— Val, 
Max. 

1 Sempronius Gracchus. 


\ 



140 


one instance among many, of what Shakespear 
calls “ the villanous inconstancy of man.” But 
who can escape censure ? The whitest virtue is 
often stricken by the poisonous shafts of back- 
wounding calumny. Fox, in his Letter to the 
Electors of Westminster, makes an observation, 
which is not inapplicable to the present subject: 
cc To be the object of calumny and misrepresen¬ 
tation, gives me uneasiness, it is true, but an un¬ 
easiness not wholly unmixed with pride and satis¬ 
faction ; since the experience of all ages and 
countries teaches, that calumny and misrepre¬ 
sentation are frequently the most unequivocal 
testimonies of the zeal, and possibly the effect, 
with which he against whom they are directed, 
has served the public.” 

All honourable distinctions of superior merit, 
it is known, were as constantly declined by Sci- 
pio, as he ever persevered in deserving them ; 
and being content with the condition of a Ro¬ 
man citizen, he displayed by his moderation, 
what Livy calls the “ ingentem magnitudinem 
animi” the prodigious greatness of his soul. 

As soon as the two Petilii, whose names have 
only become known to posterity by this accusa¬ 
tion, had preferred their charge in the senate 2 . 


2 A, V. C. 565. 



/ 


141 

Scipio arose, and taking a volume of papers out 
of his bosom, which had been drawn up by his 
brother, said *—“ In this volume is contained an 
accurate statement of all you wish to know; in 
it you will find a particular account, both of the 
money and plunder received from Antiochus.” 

Read it aloud, was the cry of the tribunes, and 
afterwards let it be deposited in the treasury. 
“ That I will not do, (said Scipio), nor will I so 
insult myself and without saying a word more, 
he tore it in pieces in the presence of them all 3 4 : 
extremely hurt, observes Aulus Gellius, that the 
man to whom the republic owed its glory and 
preservation, should be called upon to give an 
account for money and plunder taken in war. 

In some time after this, a tribune of the name 
of Nsevius, whose fame arises from his infamy, 
cited Scipio to answer before the people to the 
same charges of the Petilii, to which were added 


3 A. Gellius, J. 4, c. 18. 

\ 

4 Tam constantem defensionem Scipionis universus se¬ 
nates comprobavit.— Val. Maximus, 1. 3, c. 7 . 

It is not improbable, says Hooke, but that the tearing 
of his accounts, furnished his enemies with the chief ad¬ 
vantage they had against him. 

I cannot suppose, says Montaigne, that the most seared 
conscience could have counterfeited such ap assurance. 


/ 



J42 


the following: 5 “ That Antiochus had restored 
his son without a ransom ; that he himself had 
received sums of money from the great king, 
who had shewn him as much attention and re¬ 
spect, as if peace and war depended on his will 
alone ; that he had gone into Asia for no other 
purpose than to persuade the eastern nations 
(as he had before the western and southern) 
that he was the head and pillar of the Roman 
empire; that a mighty state, which was the 
mistress of the world, lay under the shadow of 
his wing, and. that the decrees of the senate, and 
orders of the people, were all regulated by his nod/' 
. As soon as Naevius had recited these charges, 
which, says Livy, were grounded on suspicions, 
and not on proofs, he sat down amidst the dis¬ 
approbation of almost all who heard him. The 
pleadings, however, lasted till night, which con¬ 
sequently adjourned the further hearing of the 
business to another day. When it arrived, the 
tribunes took their seats at a very early hour. 
The accused soon after arrived, with a numerous 
train of friends and clients, and passing through 
the midst of the assembly to the rostrum 6 , 

5 Livy, 1. 38, c. 51. 

6 Valerius Maximus says, he put on his head a trium¬ 
phal crown. 


\ 



143 


mounted it without the least emotion, and from 
thence, with that air of dignity and confidence 
which conscious innocence and superior virtue 
alone are able to inspire, and which he preserved 
in the greatest danger, addressed the audience, 
as soon as silence was made, to the following 
effect: “ On this day, tribunes of the people, 
and you Romans, I recollect that 1 conquered 
Hannibal, and the Carthaginians, the greatest 
enemies w r e ever encountered. Is it becoming 
us to spend a day like this in vulgar wrangling 
and contention ? Let us not then, I beseech 
you, be ungrateful to the gods, but let us leave 
this dissentious man here, and immediately go 
and return thanks to them, for the many favours 
they have vouchsafed to grant us 7 .” 

After uttering these words, he proceeded from 
the rostrum to the Capitol; on seeing which, 
the whole assembly, that had met to decide on 
the conduct of the accused, leaving his accuser 
standing in the midst, followed 8 the*defendant 

7 A. Gellius, 1. 4, c. 18; Valerius Maximus, 1. 3, c. 1; 
Aurelius Victor. 

8 “ II fut suivi, (says Voltaire), par tout Ie peuple au 
Capitole, et nos cceurs l'y suivant encore en lisant ce 
trait d’histoire; quoiq’ apres tout il eutmieux valu rendre 
ses comptes que se tirer d’affaire par un bon mot,” 


/ 



» 


144 

to the Capitol, from which they attended him tc? 
his own house with joy and solemn acclama¬ 
tions. Even Nsevius himself, says V. Maximus, 
to avoid the shame of his ridiculous situation, 
became from an accuser, a warm admirer of 
Scipio. An oration is said to have been spoken 
by Scipio on the occasion; but they who doubt 
its authenticity, do not deny, says Aulus Gellius, 
that the words above given, were the identical 
words uttered by Scipio. This was a day which 
afforded Scipio a more ample testimony of the 
favour of the public, and a clearer estimate of his 
real greatness, than that on which he rode tri¬ 
umphant over the vanquished Syphax, and the 
humbled Carthaginians. But alas! says Livy, it 
was the last day that shone with lustre on Pub¬ 
lius Scipio, who, when he saw that nothing was 
to be expected, but an endless repetition of con¬ 
tinual broils and disputes with an inveterate fac¬ 
tion, yielded to the storm, and left Rome, and 
his unthankful countrymen, with the fixed de¬ 
termination of never attending another trial 9 . 
Scipio’s 10 soul was so upright, his natural temper 

9 Qui populo serviet, avido, invido, ignore, ad 
Mutationem proelivi, et quod caput est, ingrato, 
Nuin aliquando beatus esse poterit? 

10 Livy, 1. 38, c. 32. 



145 


and spirit so lofty, and he had been used to such 
an exalted career of good fortune, that he knew 
not how to act the part of an accused man, nor 
stoop to the humiliating deportment of appearing 
as a culprit at the bar of that country, which he 
had saved from ruin. 

The day succeeding that on which Scipio had 
triumphed over the worthless Naevius, the Petilii 
again came forward with another accusation 
against him, to which he deigned not to make 
any reply. When summoned by the cryer to 
make his appearance, his brother Lucius offered 
in excuse, that his absence was caused by sick¬ 
ness. This apology being deemed inadmissible 
by his prosecutors, they insisted that his not 
coming, was owing to the same arrogant spirit 
that actuated his conduct on every former trial, 
and had been the cause of his treating all their 
proceedings with the most sovereign contempt. 
At last 1 , when they were going to have him con¬ 
demned by default, certain of the tribunes, at the 
earnest intercession of his brother, accepted the 
apology made, and obtained leave for having a 
new day set down for the hearing. This order 

for anew trial was signed by all the tribunes ex- 

i _ 

1 Livy, 1. 38, 52, &c. 

L 



146 


cept Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus 1 2 , who, un¬ 
mindful of every difference subsisting between 
himself and Scipio, forbade his name being sub¬ 
scribed to the resolution of his colleagues, 
though all expected from him, as being an 
avowed enemy to the Cornelian family, a most 
rigid sentence. 

When Gracchus rose to deliver his opinion, 
he said he considered sickness as a sufficient 
apology, for had Africanus come to Rome, and 
appealed to him, he would have supported him 
in refusing to abide a new trial ; to which he 
added, “ That Publius Scipio, by his glorious 
achievements, bv the honours received from the 
Roman people, by the concordant testimony of 
gods and men, had risen to such an height of 
dignity, that were he to stand as a criminal un¬ 
der the rostra, and be obliged to listen to the 
taunts and reproaches of young men, it would 


1 --Gens inclyta, magno 

Atque animosa viro, multusque in imagine claris 
Praefulgebat avus titulis, bellique, domique. 

This is the panegyric of Silius Italicus on the family of 
the Gracchi, when Sempronius Gracchus was summoned 
to the assistance of his country, after the disastrous battle 
of the Ticinus. 




147 

reflect more disgrace on the Roman people than 
on him.” 

Alter pronouncing this opinion, he added with 
great indignation, “ Shall Scipio, the subduer 
of Africa, stand at the feet of you, tribunes? 
Was it for this he defeated and routed in Spain 
four Carthaginian generals and their four armies ? 
Was it for this he took Syphax prisoner, van¬ 
quished Hannibal, made Carthage tributary to 
you, and removed Antiochus to the other side 
of Mount Taurus ? Was it, I say, for all this, 
that he is now to crouch under the two Petilii, 
and that you are to gain the palm of victory over 
Publius Africanus ?—Will men of illustrious 
characters 3 , never, by their own merits, or by 
public honours, arrive at a safe and inviolable 
sanctuary, where their old age may repose, if 
not revered, at least secure from injury?’' 

This unexpected declaration from the mouth 
of a man who was supposed to be the mortal foe 
of the Scipios, made a deep impression not only 
on the rest of the assembly, but even on the pro- 


3 Nullisne meritis suis, nullis vestris honoribus unquarn 
in arcera tutain, et velut sanctam, clari viri pervenient, 
ubi, si non venerabilis, inviolata saltern senectus corum 
considat?—L ivy. 



148 


secutors, who said that they would consider 
further, what might be consistent with their 
rights and duties. As soon as the assembly of 
the people was dissolved, the senate met, and 
ordered the warmest thanks to be returned to 
Tiberius Gracchus, for having consulted the 
public good in preference to private animosity; 
at the same time heavy reproaches were cast on 
the Petilii, for having attempted to make them¬ 
selves conspicuous by the calamity of another, 
and to gather laurels from a triumph gained over 
Africanus. Soon after this, the prosecution was 
no more heard of —“ Silentium deinde de Afri- 
cano fuit,” are the words of Livy. Vitam Literni 
egit sine desiderio urbis—he passed the rest of 
his days at Liternum without a wish to revisit the 
city. 4 It is said that when he was dying, he 
ordered his body to be buried at Liternum; and 
his monument to be erected there, that even the 
honours of interment might not be performed in 
his ungrateful 5 country: so dissatisfied was he 

4 Scipionem dimisit respublica.— Seneca. 

5 “ Very ungrateful,” says Hooke, “ to ask him what he 
had done with the public money”—Yes, his country was 
very ungrateful, in preferring an unfounded charge, a 
charge never proved, against a man who had been its 
deliverer. 



149 


with the manner in which he had been treated, 
that he desired his wife Emilia not to carry his 
bones to Rome * * * * 6 , 

“ He was a man,” says Livy 7 , “ of signal 
celebrity, but his celebrity shone brighter in the 
time of war than in that of peace. The begin¬ 
ning of his life was more illustrious than the end 
of it, because in his early days, he was perpetu¬ 
ally engaged in war ; and as he grew old, the 
lustre of his character faded, in proportion as 
opportunities became less frequent for the exer¬ 
cise of his military talents. His second consul¬ 
ship, even if added to the honour of the cen¬ 
sorship, was far from being equally brilliant with 
the first. The commission he held in Asia can¬ 
not be compared with it—a commission rendered 
useless, not only by indisposition, but clouded 
by the misfortune of his son, and the necessity 


Scipio, says Swinburne, by his voluntary exile, pre¬ 

served his person from indignity, without being indebted 

for his safety to a dispensation of any positive, though un¬ 

just law of his country. 

6 Moriens ab uxore petiit, ne corpus suum Romam re- 
ferretur.—A ur. Victor. 

Cineres patriae suae suos negavit, quam in cineres col- 
labi passus non fuerat.—V. Maximus, 1. 5. c. 3. 

7 Livy, 1. 38, c. 53. 



150 


in which he became involved, either of submit¬ 
ting to a trial, or withdrawing himself from that 
and his country together. However, he stood 
alone, and enjoyed without a competitor the 
distinguished honour of having terminated the 
second Punic war, which of all wars, was the 
most difficult and perilous ever carried on by the 
Roman people 8 .” 

No sooner were the eyes of Africanus closed 9 , 
than Cato* turned the whole tide of his resent¬ 
ment against his brother, who being arraigned, 
was found guilty, with his quaestor and one of his 
lieutenants, of having defrauded the treasury of 
great sums of money which had been received in 
Asia on account of the public. His quaestor and 

lieutenant entered into security for the payment 

# 

of what was due by them 10 ; but Scipio refused 
giving any security whatever, and most solemnly 
protested he had given in a true account of all 
he had received. Notwithstanding this grave 

8 Cicero, in his oration against Caecilius, sums up the 
character of Scipio in these few words—Homo virtute, 
fortuna, gloria rebds gestis amplissimus fuit. 

9 Livy, 1. 38, c. 54. 

Mirinco livore in omnes Scipiones exardebat Cato. 

* See Appendix, No. III. 

10 Livy, 1.38, c. 58. 



151 


protestation of his innocence, the officers of jus¬ 
tice were ordered to convey him to prison; but 
whilst they were in the actual discharge of their 
duty, Sempronius Gracchus once more inter¬ 
posed, and declared, “ he should make no ob¬ 
jection to their raising the money out of his 
effects, but yet he would never suffer a Roman 
general to be dragged to the common jail, where¬ 
in the leaders of the enemy, that were taken in 
battle by him, had been confined.” 

The decree passed by the interposition of 
Gracchus, was to the following effect 1 2 : ec Lu¬ 
cius Cornelius Scipio Asiaticus having obtained 
the honour of a triumph, and thrown the ge¬ 
neral of the enemy into prison, it seemed incon¬ 
sistent with the dignity of the republic, to com¬ 
mit a general of the Roman people to a place 
where the leaders of the enemies had been by 
him confined. Therefore I use my interpo¬ 
sition to save Lucius Cornelius Scipio Asiaticus 
from the violence of my colleagues.” 


1 Scipionem Asiaticum quainvis inimicum, duci in car- 
cerem non est passus. T. S. Gracchus.— Aur. Victor. 

2 A. Gellius, 1. 7, c. 19. Previous to his reading said 
decree, he swore, u se cum Scipionibus in gratiam non 
redi^se,” 



152 


When tlie entire property of Lucius Scipio 
was seized and valued, it was found inadequate 
to the payment of the sum demanded, and 
what redounded to his honour was, that amongst 
all his effects, there w r as not found the trace of 
the smallest article which could be considered 
as Asiatic. His friends and relations, indig¬ 
nant at the treatment he had received, came 
and offered to make compensation for his loss ; 
but he refused to accept of any thing except 
what was barely needful for his maintenance. 
Whatever was necessary, says Livy 3 , for do¬ 
mestic use, was purchased at the sale of his 
property by his nearest relations ; and the pub¬ 
lic hatred which had been directed against the 
Scipios, recoiled on all who were concerned in 
the prosecution. 

Can any thing be a greater proof, how tran¬ 
sient is the gale of public favour, than the treat¬ 
ment shewn to Lucius Scipio? a treatment which 
fully justifies Cicero in the following exclama¬ 
tion : lc How lamentable is the situation of those 
citizens who have done the republic the great¬ 
est services, when they find their glorious deeds 
not only forgotten, but often imputed to them 


3 Livy, 1. 38, c. GO. 



153 


as the greatest crimes.” But Rome at last re¬ 
covered from her phrensy, and did ample justice 
to his innocence and merit* : for history informs 
us, she took pleasure in making every amends for 
his losses, by giving him such various opportuni" 
ties of enriching himself, as enabled him for ten 
continued days to celebrate games in memory 
of his victory over Antiochus * 4 . 

The Scipios were so sensible of the disinte¬ 
rested conduct of Sempronius Gracchus through¬ 
out this whole business, and so anxious to mark 
their sense of it, that they gave him in marriage 
the youngest daughter of Africanus, the incom¬ 
parable Cornelia, whose two sons, Tiberius and 
Caius, were equally renowned for their virtues 
and misfortunes. But the following account of 
the manner in which Cornelia was betrothed to 
Gracchus, is transmitted by Livy among the 
traditionary stories that were current in his time. 
He says, that the senators who happened to 
sup together in the capitol 5 the day on which 

* See Appendix, No. IV. 

4 Populus Romanus Stipem spargere caepit Spurio 
Posthumio, Quinto Marcio, Consulibus; tanta abun- 
dantia pecuniae erat, ut earn conferret Lucio Scipioni, 
ex qua is ludos fecit.— Plin. 1. 33, c. JO. 

5 Non contentus enim Scipio auctore senatu, in Capi- 



154 


the lictors attempted to carry Lucius Scipio to 
prison, all rose in a body, and requested Afri¬ 
canus, before the company broke up, to con¬ 
tract his daughter Cornelia to Sempronius 
Gracchus; and that a contract was executed 
in due form in the presence of the whole as¬ 
sembly. As soon as African us returned home, 
he told his wife ^Emilia, that he had concluded a 
match for her younger daughter; at which the 
lady, feeling her pride wounded, indignantly 
cried out, that he ought not to have disposed 
of their common child, even to Sempronius 
Gracchus himself, without consulting her mo¬ 
ther ; to which Africanus made this reply: 
“ Why, woman, Gracchus is the very man to 
whom I have betrothed her !” 

How long Africanus lived at Liternum, or 
how he spent his time there, is not ascertained. 
He had nothing for which he could reproach 
himself in his retreat: not so his unthankful 
countrymen, whose ingratitude, as has already 
been observed, he did not forget at the hour of 
his death, when he ordered a tomb to be erected 


tolio Jovis epulo cum Graccho concordiam communi- 
casse; filiam quoque ei Corneliara protinus ibi despondit. 
—Val. Max. 1. 4 , c. 2. 



155 


at Liternum, wherein his bones might rest, and 
his country be deprived of the honour of possess¬ 
ing them 6 . 

A modern writer 7 , in his history of the Roman 
republic, regrets that the memory of Scipio 
should be marked by so peevish a stain; parti¬ 
cularly when the memory of Hannibal is free 
from such an aspersion, though treated worse 
than Scipio ; adding, that it is the part of such 
men to do what others cannot perform, and that 
of the vulgar and malicious to detract from their 
merit. Other Romans were proud of their 
country, but Scipio was perhaps the first Ro¬ 
man who thought, not without reason, that 
his country should be proud of him ; and who, 
accordingly bore the freedom of being ques¬ 
tioned as a criminal by his fellow-citizens, with 
impatience and disdain. However, in conse¬ 
quence of what he said, when dying, of his 
country’s ingratitude, he was denied a funeral 

6 Africanus Superior non solum contusam et confrac- 
tam belli Punici armis rempublicam, sed pene jam ex- 
sanguem atque morientem, Africae dominam reddidit: 
cujus clarissima opera injuriis pensando cives vici earn 
ignobilis ac desertae paludis accolam fecerunt: ejusque 
voluntarii exilii acerbitatem non tacitus ad inferos tulit, 
sepulchro suo inscribi jubendo, ingrata Patria , ne ossa 
quedem mea f habes.— Valerius Maximus, 1. 5, c. 

7 Ferguson. 



156 


Oration, a tribute of respect not refused to the 
commonest patrician. This mark of attention 
was not only refused him, but accusations of 
misconduct were exhibited against him by his 
enemies. Th« splendour of his victories, and 
the advantages he obtained for his country, were 
insufficient to protect and shelter him from the 
murmurs of the envious and the calumnies of 
the mean 8 . Hence is founded this great and 
important truth, that there is no security against 
injury or reproach, but wffiat is placed in the 
consciousness of integrity and virtue 9 . 

Be this thy brazen bulwark of defence, 

Still to preserve thy conscious innocence, 

Nor e’er turn pale with grief 10 . 


8 Scipio was accused of being a great sleeper, and 
that for no other reason, says Montaigne, but that men 
were displeased, that he was the only man in whom no 
other fault was to be found. Montaigne quotes no autho¬ 
rity for the above anecdote. 

9 A good conscience is a port, which is land-locked on 
every side; and where no winds can possibly invade, no 
Wipests can arise. There a man may stand up on the 
shore, and not only see his own image, but that of his 
Maker, clearly reflected from the undisturbed and silent 
waters.— Dryden. 

10 — — Hie murus aheneus esto 
Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culp&. 


Horace. 



157 


Yet notwithstanding all the displeasure that 
existed among certain people at Rome, the day 
on which the news of Scipio’s death was known, 
proved a day of general sorrow: for the very 
men who refused to pay him the appropriate 
and usual honours, could not help mingling 
their tears with those of the public 1 . 

Livy says, he saw at Liternum the monu¬ 
ment which was erected to him, and the statue 
which stood on the top of it, lying on the 
ground, where it had been blown down by a 
storm. Pliny writes, that in his time was to be 
seen a myrtle 2 of an extraordinary size, grow¬ 
ing at Liternuin, underneath which was a cave 
wherein, it was said, a dragon watched the soul 
of that great man. There were also to be seen 
some olive trees 3 planted by his own hand. 
All these inconsiderable objects serve to shew 
how much the idea of greatness is attached to 
every circumstance connected in the most dis¬ 
tant manner with illustrious men; and the rea¬ 
son is, that each inspires interest, and claims 
some attention. 

1 Livy, 1. 38, c. 56. 

1 Item myrtus eodem loco conspicme magnitudinis. 
Subest specus, in quo manes ejus custodire draco traditur. 

—Plin. 1. 16, c. 43. 

' / 

3 JVIanft satac olivse.— Plin. 1. 16. c. 43. 



158 


There was a monument of the Scipios at 
Rome, outside the Capenian gate, whereon 
were erected three statues, two of them were 
said to be those of Publius and Lucius Scipio, 
and the third that of the poet Ennius. The 
erection of this monument in happier times, 
proves that great men, though they have suf¬ 
fered more persecutions in republics than in 
other forms of government, yet sooner or later 
the day of retribution arrives, wherein ample 
justice is paid to their memories 4 . Though no 
people were more capable of appreciating the 
reward due to merit, than the Romans, we 
must at the same time allow, that the remem¬ 
brance of no man, was more likely to inspire 
such a sentiment than that of Africanus. 

That commonwealths have frequently treated 
with great severity their eminent generals, is a 
matter which requires little demonstration, it 
appearing from history, that such states have 
generally made use of them, as men have done 

4 One eminent mark of respect was shewn to Scipio’s 
memory, even in Valerius Maximus’s time, who lived in 
the reign of Tiberius—“ Imaginem in Celia Jovis op- 
timi maximi positam habet, quee quotiescunque funus 
aliquod Cornelise celebrandum est, inde petitur, unique 
llli instar atrii, capitolium est.— Val. Max. 1. 8. c. 15. 



159 


of great trees, under which they have taken 
shelter, in foul and stormy weather; but when 
the weather has become fair, they have stripped 
them of their leaves and plucked off their fruits, 
and cut down their longest and fairest branches. 

Having noticed two visits paid to Liternum 
by Livy and Pliny, I shall take the liberty of 
mentioning a third, which was lately made to 
it by the author 5 of the Classical Tour through 
Italy, a work which, for good taste and liberal 
sentiments, merits the attention of every gentle¬ 
man and scholar. “ The situation of Liternum 6 ,” 
says the author, “is neither beautiful nor healthy, 

5 Rev. John Chetwode Eustace; by whose death, po¬ 
lite literature has lost a warm admirer, and the Catholic 
Church an enlightened friend. 

6 Literni honestius Scipio, quam Baiis exulabat: ruina 
ejusnon est tam molliter colloconda.— Seneca, Epis. 51. 

Sen^que y possedoit la maison ou Scipion l’ancien 
passa les derniferes anndes de sa vie. Elle £toit bade de 
pierre de taille, avec une inuraille et de tours, dans le 
gout d’une forteresse. Elle etoit situee au milieu d’un 
bois d’oliviers et de myrtes; on voyoit de ceux-la du 
terns de Pline, qui avoicnt 6te plants de la main de 
Scipion deux cens cinquante ans auparavant. On y 
voyoit un beau reservoir capable d’abreuver un arm6e, et 
un petit bain 6troit et tenebreux a la mode des anciens. 
—Gibbon. 



160 


but its name is ennobled by the residence of 
Scipio Africanus, who passed there the latter 
years of his life, a voluntary exile, in obscurity, 
rural labour, and philosophical studies. Whe¬ 
ther he was buried at Liternum, or not, was a 
subject of doubt even in Livy’s time ; however, 
either a tomb or cenotaph was erected to him 
there: a stone, on which the word Patria is 
still legible, is supposed to have contained part 
of the inscription ingrata patria , &c. and gives 
to the modern tower the appellation of Torre di 
Patria 7 . His villa still remained in the time of 
Seneca, and seems to have been built with great 
solidity, and surrounded like a Gothic castle 
with a wall and tower. A rampart was also ne¬ 
cessary, as it stood on the confines of the GaU 
lenaria Pinus, a forest at one time the abode, 
and at all times the occasional resort, of ban¬ 
ditti.” 

If, as some authors write, Scipio died at 
Liternum, it is probable that his ashes were first 

7 Torre de Patria, une lieue au nord de C umes, a l’em- 
bouchure du Linterne, ou Clanio, est une ancienne tour, 
ainsi appellee parce qu’on y voit en gros caracteres le 
mot Patria, reste d'une ancienne inscription; e'etoit, dit¬ 
on, le Tombeau de Scipion l’Africain.—D e la Lande. 
t. 7. 



J 61 


interred at his villa, and were afterwards con¬ 
veyed to the family sepulchre in Rome, on the 
Via Capena, where a sarcophagus was found a 
few years ago, inscribed with his name * * * * 8 . Cicero 
speaks with great confidence of the year in 
which Scipio died; yet Livy found so great a 
difference of opinion among historians on the 
subject, that he declares himself unable to as¬ 
certain it. From a fragment in Polybius we 
learn, that in his time the authors who had 
written of Scipio, were ignorant of some circum¬ 
stances of his life, and mistaken in others; and 
from Livy it appears, that the accounts respect¬ 
ing his life, trial, death, funeral and sepulchre, 
were so contradictory, that he was not able to 
determine what tradition, or whose writings he 
ought to credit. The general opinion is, that 
lie died in the fifty-seventh year of his age; 
though a modern writer 9 in his Universal His¬ 
tory, without quoting any authority, says he 
died at his country seat at the age of forty-eight. 

3 Swinburne, in his travels through Italy, says, that no 

urn or monumental inscription belonging to this illustri¬ 

ous member of the family of the Scipios, has been found 

in their sepulchre lately discovered at Rome, near the 

gate of St. Sebastian. 

9 Anquetil. 


M 



162 


No character has been celebrated with more 
cordial praise by ancient and modern writers, 
(Hooke excepted), than that of Scipio Africa- 
nus. His name stands at the head of the most 
eminent military characters 10 of the republic, 
as being a man, whose talents as a soldier were 
peculiarly conspicuous ; for at the age of seven¬ 
teen, his father owed him his life, at the battle 


10 One of Scipio’s memorable sayings in war, I shall 
give the reader from Valerius Maximus.—Scipio Africa- 
nus used to say, that in the business of war, it was dis¬ 
graceful to cry, I had not thought, non put arum, he being 
of opinion, that all matters to be transacted by the sword, 
were not to be undertaken, till after most serious and 
well-weighed deliberation, and the justice of the same 
fully ascertained. For that error is not to be remedied, 
which is committed in the heat and violence of war. He 
added, we should never engage with an enemy except 
where the necessity was urgent, and the opportunity fa¬ 
vorable—most prudent advice. For to omit an oppor¬ 
tunity of fighting, when there is every prospect of success, 
is madness in the extreme : to which may be added, that 
the man who is forced to the necessity of fighting, and 
yet declines the contest, terminates his own pusillani¬ 
mity by the most disastrous issue. Of such as commit 
these blunders in war, the one party knows not how to 
make use of the smiles of fortune, nor does the other 
know how to resist her frowns.— Val. Maximus, 1.7, c. 2. 



163 


of theTicinusj and Ins country, its safety at the 
battle of Zama. Scipio was frequently heard to 
say, that he had rather save the life of a single 
soldier, than destroy a thousand enemies \ a 
golden sentiment, which was frequently in the 
mouth of the virtuous Antoninus Pius. By 
this humanity of disposition, he was not only 
beloved by his army, who considered him as 
their father and protector, but likewise by all 
foreign nations, who admired his goodness and 
equity. In the sedition that broke out at Sucro, 
in Spain, which necessarily required the making 
some examples, he said, he thought it like the 
tearing out of his own botvels, when he saw 
himself obliged to expiate the crimes of eight 
thousand men by the death of thirty. 

But besides the many rare gifts of nature that 
Scipio had above all others, there was in him 
also, according as the old writer of his life word- 
eth it, a certain princely grace and majesty. 
Furthermore, he was marvellous gentle and 
courteous unto them that came to him, and had 
an eloquent tongue, and a passing gift to win 
every man. He was very grave in his gesture 
and behaviour, and ever wore long hair 1 . In 

1 Ceperat jam ante Numidam (Massinissam) ex lama 




164 


fine, he was truly a noble captain, worthy of all 
commendation, and excelled in all virtues, which 
did so delight his mind, that he was wont to 
say, (according to the report of Cato the cen¬ 
sor), “ that he was never less idle than when 
at leisure, nor less alone than when alone 2 .” A 
magnificent sentence, exclaims Cicero, and wor- 


rerum gestarum admiratio viri: substitueratque animo 
speciem quoque corporis amplam ac magnificam. Cete- 
rum major prassentis veneratio cepit; et praeterquam quod 
sufipte natura multa majestas incrat, adornabat promissa 
Caesaries, babitusque corporis non cultus munditiis, sed 
virilis verb ac militaris, et aetas in medio viriqm robore, 
quod plenius nitidiusque ex morbo velut renovatus flos 
juventae faciebat.— Livy, 1. 28, c. 35. 

z Cicero de Officiis, 1. 3, c. 1. 

St. Ambrose, in the first chapter of his third book de 
Officiis , shews that the maxim in the text is older than 
Scipio, and that it was verified in a more illustrious man¬ 
ner in the characters of Moses, Elijah, Elisha, and the 
Apostles, who performed so many miracles, when they 
seemed to be engaged in no employment. He adds, that 
a good man is never alone, because he is perpetually pre¬ 
sent with God; that he is never unemployed, because he is 
always meditating; that he seems to be unknown, and yet 
stands in the most eminent point of view; that when death 
seems to extinguish him, he enjoys a more happy state of 
existence; that he is never more joyful, than when he 



165 


thy of so great and wise a person; by which it 
appears, that in the midst of leisure, he could 
turn his thoughts to business, and was used, 
when alone, to commune with himself; so that 
he was never properly idle, nor ever stood in 
need of company to entertain him in his soli¬ 
tude. The fame of his illustrious actions was so 
great, that wherever he went, all descriptions of 
people were anxious to visit him; and a report 
was current at the time, that several captains of 
pirates came to see him, and kiss his victorious 
hands*; for virtue has such power and influence 
with all ranks of people, that it makes not only 
the good, but the bad, to love and respect it. 
What a public display is here given of this great 
man’s glory * * 3 4 , which could extort respect, and as 
it were, a sort of veneration, from loose and pro- 

seems to be in affliction; never richer, than when he 

seems poor, because all his happiness consists in the rec¬ 
titude of his mind. 

3 Valerius Maximus, 1. 2, c. 10. 

4 Quid hoc fructu majestatis excelsius? Quid etiam 
jucundius? Hostis iram adiniratione sui placavit: spec- 
taculo presentiae suae latronum gestientes oculos obstupe- 
fecit. Delapsa cado sidera, hominibus si se offerant , vene- 
rationis amplius non recipient. 



m 


fligate men, who lived in the open and constant 
violation of all justice and humanity! The old 
historian of the life of Scipio, says, his enemies 
oftentimes proved his valiantness, the van¬ 
quished his mercy and clemency, and all other 
men his faithfulness. He then notices an epi¬ 
taph that was found near Caieta, on a plate of 
copper set in a marble tomb, which I will take 
the liberty of giving, as modernised from the old 
English version. 

The man that laid the Punic trophies low, 

And foil’d her champion, Rome’s most dreaded foe; 
Who with fresh laureate wreaths her temples crown’d, 
And o’er new kingdoms stretch’d her empire’s bound, 
Here lies in dust—the monumental stone, 

A sad memorial, tells her glory gone; 

Whom Europe, and whom Afric scarce of old 
Contain’d—is now a little heap of mould. 

What does Lucretius write of our mighty 
hero ? 

Scipiades, belli fulmen, Carthaginis horror, 

Ossa dedit terras, proinde ac famul’infimus esset. 

The Roman chief, the Carthaginian dread, 

Scipio, the thunderbolt of war, is dead. 

And like a common slave, by fate in triumph led. 

But where are now vanished the splendid glo- 



i 


t 


167 

ries of the mighty Napoleon, whose numberless 
victories almost bore the stamp of supernatural 
agency ? 

Embattl’d nations strove in vain 

The hero’s glory to restrain; 

Streams arm’d with rocks, and mountains red with fire, 

In vain against his force conspire. 

Behold him from that tow’ring height 

In ocean, set in endless night. 

In what manner Scipio passed his time at Li- 
ternum, is little known ; Pope supposes he was 
equally great there, as he was in all the magni¬ 
ficence of triumph : 

Bold Scipio, Saviour of the Roman state, 

Great in his triumphs, in retirement great s . 

Some writers say, Scipio amused himself dur¬ 
ing his retirement, in the cultivation of his farm, 
and in the conversation of the wise and good, 
without feeling the least regret at being excluded 
from a scene in which he had appeared with so 
much honour to himself, and advantage to his 
country. “ Endeavour,” says a noble writer, in 
his Reflections on Exile, “ to copy after the ex- 

5 Such was the lot th ? immortal Roman chose, 

Great in his triumph, greater in repose. 

S, Boyse, 



ample of Scipio at Liternum. Be able to say to 
yourself, 

iC Innocuas amo delicias, doctamque quietem. 

u Rural amusements and philosophical medita¬ 
tions will make your hours glide smoothly on; 
and if the indulgence of Heaven has given you 
a friend like Lcelius, nothing is wanting to make 
you completely happy.” 

In all Scipio’s campaigns, Laelius was his 
chief assistant, and the man in whom he placed 
his greatest confidence. But the friendship sub¬ 
sisting between them, was not more conspi¬ 
cuous than was that which connected afterwards 
the son of the one with the grandson of the other 6 . 


6 It should be observed here, that Lord Bolingbroke 
often confounds the younger with the elder Scipio; a mis¬ 
take into which Montaigne has fallen; and what is much 
more extraordinary is, that even Horace has scarcely 
avoided it. 

•-Non celeres fugae, 

Rejectagque retrorsum Annibalis minae: 

Non incendia Carthagiuis impiae, 

Ejus, qui domita nomen ab Africa 
Lucratus rediit, clarius indicant 
Laudes, quam Calabrae Pierides. 

Horace, O. 1. 4, O. 8. 



169 


Whether Laelius cheered the hours of Seipio’s 
retirement, is not distinctly marked in history by 
any writer. The poet Ennius is known to have 
been held in such particular esteem by him, that 
he ordered the body of his learned friend to be 
placed by his side 7 . The very wish he felt of hav¬ 
ing the same common sepulchre with so distin¬ 
guished a poet, is a decided proof of the love he 
had for polite literature; 

Here Scipio rests, and Ennius, side by side, 

One Rome’s high chief, and one Calabria’s pride 8 . 

Valerius Maximus 9 observes, that Scipio paid 
this very particular honour to Ennius, from a 
conviction that his own actions would derive ad- 


7 Fu Scipione uno de’ primi eroi della Romana repub- 
lica, chi alia gloria dell’ armi quella ancordelle lettere fe- 
licimente congiunse; ed Ennio fu uno de’dotti uomini 
cui egli anche in mezzo al rumore dell’ armi godeva di 
avere a fianchi.— Tiraboschi. 

Prior Africanus Q. Ennii statuam sepulchro suo imponi 
jussit, clarumque illud nomen, imo vero spolium ex tertia 
orbis partb raptum, in cinere supremo cum poetae titulo 
legi.— Plin. 1. 7, c. 30. 

8 Ennius emeruit, Calabris in montibus ortus 
Contiguus poni, Scipio magne, tibi. 

Ovid, Ars Amatoria , 1. 3, 1. 409. 

9 Lib. 8, c. 14. 



170 


ditional lustre from the poet’s writings; that the 
memorial of them would endure as long as the 
Roman empire should flourish, and Africa be 
subject to Italy, and the Capitol command the 
world, provided that they had the advantage of 
being rewarded in the works of genius. 

10 He fought, he conquer’d, not for vulgar fame, 

But with that blazonry to crown his name, 

Which Clio’s hand bestows; for this the bard 
Was the prime object of the chief’s regard; 

For honour loves, beneath the Muse’s eye, 

Ambitious of her smile, the task to ply: 

Whoe’er aspire to deeds of high renown, 

The Muse’s charms with holy rev’rence own. 

If there is an exceptionable part in Scipio’s 
public conduct, says an elegant modern writer, 
it is that of not vindicating his character from 
the charge of the impeachment, and treating the 
accusation with the utmost disdain. When he 
refused complying with the summons for his ap¬ 
pearance, and withdrew to his villa, he answered 
all the purposes which they who were the most 


10 Non sine Pieriis exercuit artibus arma, 
Semper erat vatum maxima cura duci, 
Gaudet enim virtus testes sibi jungere musas, 
Carmen amat quisque canning digna gerit. 



171 


moderate among hi? enemies, had in view by the 
prosecution ; and as it removed him by a sort of 
voluntary exile from Rome, it rendered his power 
no longer an object of danger or alarm. Besides, 
it was the opinion of the most constitutional re¬ 
publicans 1 , that no citizen ought to stand so high 
above his fellows, as not to be made amenable 
to the laws for his conduct; for it was their opi¬ 
nion, that nothing contributed more towards 
maintaining the equilibrium of liberty, than that 
the most powerful should be brought to trial; 
Cato being used to say, that that commonweal 
could not be accounted free, which stood in awe 
of any man. The greatest services joined to the 
clearest innocence, are not deemed sufficient to 
justify a general’s holding himself unaccountable 
to the public, whose servant he is, for the ad¬ 
ministration of whatever is committed to his care. 

The best of men have ever lov’d repose; 

They hate to mingle in the filthy fray, 

Where the soul sours, and gradual rancour grows, 
Embitter’d more from peevish day to day, 

Even those whom fame has lent her fairest ray. 

The most renown’d of worthy wights of yore, 

From a base world at last have stolen away; 

So Scipio to the soft Cumaean shore, 

Retiring, tasted joy he never knew before 1 . 


1 Livy, 1. 38, c. 50. 
z Thomson—Castle of Indolence. 



172 


It is the opinion of the writers of the Ency¬ 
clopedia, that there is not perhaps a person who 
does greater honour to the Roman republic, than 
Scipio Africanus, who was accustomed to per¬ 
suade his soldiers, that he was directed and in¬ 
spired by the gods; yet after giving this as their 
opinion, they ask, how it came to pass, that 
the gods did not inspire him to give in his ac¬ 
counts ? To this may be offered the following so¬ 
lution—Scipio could not dispute the constitu¬ 
tional right his enemies had of bringing him to 
a trial ; but the conviction he felt within himself, 
of his own unspotted innocence, was the true 
cause of his not pleading in vindication of what, 
he thought, required no defence. His pride was 
wounded by unjust suspicion, and his wounded 
spirit dictated nought but silence. This silence 
he vainly imagined would have been as eloquent 
in his justification, as if he had spoken with the 
tongues of men and of angels. Even Tiberius 
Gracchus was so convinced of his innocence, 
that though a resolution had passed for sending 
the proper officers to compel his appearance to 
the last tribunitial summons, he interposed his 
negative, and declared that the apology pleaded 
in his favour, of ill health, was sufficient; at the 
same time saying, that Scipio’s house should be 
respected as sacred from all violation, in conside- 


173 


ration of his personal merit, and the great public 
services he had rendered to his country. 

The period of the world in which Scipio lived, 
was the most interesting of any in the histories 
of Greece or Rome; it was a great moment, and 
Scipio was equal to it. His birth, according to 
Valerius Maximus 3 , was preordained by the gods, 
that there might be one man in whom virtue was 
to appear arrayed in all her native perfection. 
But characters are sometimes best appreciated 
by considering them in a comparative point of 
view T , or juxta-position with others. Let us then 
compare him to the greatest and best men of 
antiquity, the first Caesar, and the first Cato $ I 
would rather say, reputed to be the best and 
greatest, for I am far from thinking them so in 
reality. Compare the first trait of Caesar’s cha¬ 
racter, I mean his producing at his aunt’s fune¬ 
ral, in defiance of the dictator Sylla, and at the 
hazard of his own life, the images of Marius 4 , a 
bad citizen, to the first act of Scipio, the saving 
of his father’s life at the battle of the Ticinus, 


3 V. Maximus, 1. 6, c. 9. 

4 Cassar made a speech in commendation of his aunt 
Julia, the widow of Marius, and caused images of her to 
be carried in the funeral procession.— IIooke, vol. iii, 

p. 304. 



174 


and the preservation of the remains of the Ro¬ 
man army after the battle of Cannse. Compare 
the unconstitutional commission obtained by 
Caesar with immense intrigue for the command 
in Gaul for ten years, by which he was enabled 
to raise an army and exercise a power indepen¬ 
dent of the constitution ; and did thereby raise 
an army which he afterwards marched against 
Rome. Compare such an act with the honoura¬ 
ble manner in which Scipio obtained the go¬ 
vernment of Spain^ when nobody else had the 
courage to undertake it; and his reconciliation 
and reconquest of that kingdom to Rome, toge¬ 
ther with the formation of an army which he af¬ 
terwards carried into Africa. Compare Caesar’s 
passing the Rubicon, and driving the senate out 
of Rome, to Scipio’s passing into Africa, and his 
drawing Hannibal out of Italy. Compare the 
battle of Pharsalia, fought against a fellow-citi¬ 
zen, and an inferior captain, with that of Zama, 
fought against the eternal enemy of Rome, and 
the greatest general that ever lived, except him 
who conquered him. Compare their subsequent 
triumphs—that of Caesar, wherein he exhibited 
the image of Cato 5 , and that of Scipio, in which 

5 Appian notices the circumstance of Csesar's intro¬ 
ducing into his triumph a representation of Cato tearing 
out his own bowels. 



175 


he exhibited the image of Syphax; that of C<esar 
over his country, and that of Scipio, which was 
the triumph of his country over the rest of the 
world. Let us now compare the consequences 
that followed the two battles; and first, that of 
Pharsalia, which was succeeded by the establish¬ 
ment of a tyranny that cursed mankind for ages, 
over the greatest part of the earth, in the person 
of one man, until the house of Caesar had not 
only disgraced and dishonoured all the great fa¬ 
milies of the empire, but punished them for 
their ambition; and then turned on itself, and 
murdered every soul belonging to it, so that 
not one remained of the execrable race. Com¬ 
pare such a consequence of the battle of Pharsa¬ 
lia to that of Zama, which placed Rome at the 
head of the world. Compare Caesar’s ascending 
the throne in consequence of his victory, pos¬ 
sessed of the entire power and wealth of the Ro¬ 
man state, after sacrificing above a million of 
men to raise himself to that bad eminence, and 
at the same time projecting the conquest of Par- 
thia, that there should be no end to slavery, or 
respite to the shedding of blood/ Compare all 
that to Scipio’s refusing the consulship and dic¬ 
tatorship for life, and retiring without power, 
without wealth, and without reward, to the sea- 


176 


side, to enjoy solitude, learning, and the conver¬ 
sation of a few chosen friends, together with his 
own conscious superiority over the rest of his 
fellow-citizens. 

To continue our comparison—compare Cae¬ 
sar’s mercy with that of Scipio ; the mercy of 
the latter, who gave to his captive every thing 
he had ; and the mercy of Caesar, who robbed 
his fellow-citizen of his liberty, and left him only 
his life. Compare Caesar’s gallantry with Cato’s 
sister, to Scipio’s continence and amiable de¬ 
meanour towards the Spanish captive. Behold 
Scipio appealing to the gods from the accusation 
brought against him by a dissentious tribune, 
and Caesar threatening the officer with death 6 , 
who opposed him when breaking open the trea¬ 
sury. In fine, compare the political intrigues of 


6 Metellus was the tribune who opposed this violent 
measure, which caused Caesar to treat him with great 
roughness; telling him that it was in vain to talk of laws 
in the midst of arms, and that he was master not only 
of the money, but of the lives of all he conquered. The 
tribune not being intimidated by this language, perse¬ 
vered in his opposition. Caesar then threatened to kill 
him, saying, “ An ignoras, adolescens, dithcilius esse 
mihi dicere hoc, quam facere —Don’t you know, young 
man, that it is harder for me to say it than to do it? 



177 


Ca&sar with Clodius, his friendship with Antony* 
his persecution of Cicero* and his toleration of 
Catiline, with Scipio’s friendship with Laelius, 
with Ennius, with Sempronius Gracchus, and all 
the best men of the age in which he lived. 

In considering the relative situations of Scipio 
and Cato, the following circumstances are not 
undeserving of attention, as they serve to illus¬ 
trate their respective characters. Cato had not 
the opportunities which Scipio possessed : he 
had not the command of the Spanish war, nor 
of the riches of the East; but as he had not the 
opportunities, he consequently had not the merit 
arising from them. Cato protested against the 
luxuries of the East, and the existence of Car¬ 
thage ; Scipio resisted the first, and subdued the 
latter, by which he made the censor his involun¬ 
tary panegyrist. Scipio opposed the malice of 
his country in the persecution of Hannibal; 
Cato fomented this malice, in her persecution of 
the conquered city of Carthage, and assisted in 
abetting a false charge against a man who had 
saved his country, in this point of view becom¬ 
ing a seditious incendiary against innocence and 
virtue. Cato persevered in keeping alive the 
peopled ingratitude and injustice; by doing 
which, Scipio’s brother was tried and found 
guilty; but as the grounds of his conviction 

N 


178 


were not sufficient, the condemned man was 
acquitted, and his persecutors confuted. This 
disingenuous conduct on the part of the censor, 
in addition to his uniform persecution of Scipio, 
brings Cato down to his proper standard of esti¬ 
mation, a first-rate in rigour, a second-rate in 
virtue. 

In our comparison of Scipio with Caesar, we 
omitted to observe, that the only point wherein 
their characters can admit of equality, is in the 
art of war, and even in this respect, it is no easy 
matter to ascertain their comparative merits; for 
it is to be observed, that though Csesar was al¬ 
lowed to possess the first-rate talents for war, he 
never had to contend with a first-rate general. 
The two greatest battles ever fought, were those 
of Zama and Pharsalia, for the one gave the 
world to Rome, and the other gave it to Caesar. 
In the first, Scipio conquered the most consum¬ 
mate general that ever lived; and in the last, 
Caesar fought against a second-rate general, and 
would have been beaten, had he fought against 
a first, for Hannibal, in Pompey’s situation, 
would have conquered, and the dynasty of the 
Caesars had never existed 7 . The pre-eminence 

7 On one occasion Caesar said to his friends—“ This 
day the victory would have been the enemy’s, had their 
general (Pompey) known how to conquer.” 



179 


of men is ascertained with some tolerable preci¬ 
sion when they undertake, and successfully per¬ 
form, that from which other men withdraw, or 
that which other men oppose. Scipio undertook 
the government of Spain, which all appeared to 
decline; and he carried the war into the enemy’s 
country, at the time the enemy was in his own, 
in direct opposition to the opinion of most men 
of that day 8 , but since admitted by all great ge¬ 
nerals to be a wise stratagem of war. 

I have dwelt the longer on the comparison 
of Scipio and Caesar, because the world is ever 
disposed to prefer courage to justice, though the 
one we have in common with the brutes, the 
other with the Deity; for if, among the ancients, 
some men have been esteemed heroes by the 
achievements of great conquests and victories, it 
has been by the wise institution of laws and go¬ 
vernment, that others have been honoured and 
esteemed as gods. 

To conclude, Scipio was equal in courage, 
and superior in every other consideration, to 
Cato and Caesar; he was greater than the great¬ 
est of bad men, and better than the reputed 
best of good ones. 

8 Cicero, in allusion to this circumstance, says in his 
fourth oration against Catiline, “ Sit Scipio clarus, ille, 
cujus consilid atque virtutc Hannibal in Africam redire, 
atque ex Italia decedere coactus est.” 

N 2 





















APPENDIX. 



No. I. 

THE Abbe Seran de la Tour, in his Life of 
Scipio Africanus, says, I have seen this shield, the 
memorial of Allucius’s gratitude, in the King of 
France's cabinet of medals; it contains forty-six 
marks of pure silver, and is twenty-six inches in dia¬ 
meter. The plain uniform taste which is observed 
through the whole design, in the attitudes and the 
contours, shews the simplicity of the arts in those 
days, when they avoided all foreign ornaments, to 
be the more attentive to natural beauties. 

Jephson, in his Roman Portraits, has given an en¬ 
graving of this Clypeus Votivus, taken from Draken- 
borch’s Silius Italicus, of which he mentions its di¬ 
mensions, its weight, &c. Now, if the figures de¬ 
scribed on it are such as are represented in the engrav¬ 
ing, tliere can, I think, be no doubt of its being in¬ 
tended for the story in the text; and yet Northleigh, 
in his Travels, is of opinion, that the engraved piece 
of sculpture cannot be a buckler. See a Dissertation 
sur les Boucliers Votifs, Acad, des Inscriptions. Ce 
Bouclier, que Scipion emporta avec lui en retournant 


182 


& Rome, fut englouti par les eaux au passage da 
Rhone avec une partie du baggage. II etoit demeure 
dans ce fleuve jusqu' en 1665, que quelques pecheurs 
le trouverent. II est aujourd’hui dans le cabinet du 
Roi de France. 

Montfaucon gives a representation of the shield, 
and seems to entertain no doubt of its authenticity. 
It was published by Spon, and taken from the cabi¬ 
net of M. du May, of Lyons. The same writer men¬ 
tions the pummel of a sword, on which were en¬ 
graved the words, Carthago , duce Hannibale, su¬ 
bact a gladio et virtutc Scipionis ; but of this he has 
great doubts. 




183 


No. II. 

Hooke, in noticing the story in the text, says, I 
would not wish the reader to believe Valerius Antias, 
who reports that Scipio acted a quite contrary part 
to what is given him by Livy. Aulus Gellius (on 
whom the Roman historian relies) says, it is related, 
though he knows not whether truly or otherwise, 
that Scipio, when a young man, was not immacu¬ 
late, it appearing from Cneius Naevius the poet, that 
“ he who often carried on great affairs with glory, 
whose exploits yet live, and flourish, who alone is re¬ 
nowned among mortals, was by his father led away 
in his shirt from his mistress/’ 

This is the account, says Aulus Gellius, which in¬ 
duced Valerius Antias to express himself as he has 
done, concerning the morality of Scipio, in contra¬ 
diction to all other writers, and to say that the cap¬ 
tive damsel was not restored to her relations, but 
was detained by Scipio, and used by him for his own 
private gratification. But then it may be asked, 
what dependence can be placed on the evidence of 
a poet, who was in the constant habit of lampooning 
the nobility of Rome in his writings, and who for a 
libel was thrown into prison] And in the next place, 
what evidence can be given to Valerius Antias, 
whose authority is called in question, both by Livy 


184 


and Aulus Gellius, the former saying that little cre¬ 
dit is due to an historian who in the instance of am¬ 
plification was most intemperate ? And it is well 
known, that he who will amplify on one occasion, 
will diminish on another, it being the same intempe¬ 
rate passion that carries him indifferently to either. 
How light and inconsiderable is sometimes the mat¬ 
ter which subjects the best-established characters to 
the suspicion of posterity, which, observes Bishop 
Warburton, is as often malignant to virtue, as the 
age which saw it in its insufferable glory; and how 
ready is it to catch at a low revived slander, which 
the times that brought it forth, saw despised and 
forgotten in its birth? 

One would have hoped so mean a slander as 
that uttered by Valerius Autias, might have slept 
forgotten in Aldus Geilius’s common-place book, 
and yet we see it quoted as a fact by a noble writer, 
in his Patriot King. His words are: “ Now the 
reputation of the first Scipio was not so clear and 
uncontroverted in private as in public life; nor was 
he allowed by all to be a man of such severe virtue 
as he affected, and as that age required. Nsevius 
was thought to mean him, in some verses Gellius 
has preserved; and Valerius Antias made no scruple 
to assert, that far from restoring the fair Spaniard 
to her family, he debauched and kept her. 

tf Notwithstanding this, what authority did he not 


185 


maintain? In what esteem did he not live and die? 
With what panegyrics has not the whole torrent of 
writers rolled down his reputation, even to these 
days? This could not have happened, if the vice 
imputed to him, had shewn itself in any scandalous 
appearances, to eclipse the lustre of the general, the 
consul, or the citizen/' 

From what has been stated of the characters of 
such a poet as Nasvius, and such an historian as 
Valerius Antias, we are concerned to find their slan¬ 
der advanced by one of the finest writers of the age 
in which he lived, to such a degree of credit, as may 
have induced many superficial readers and warm 
admirers of Lord Bolingbroke’s writings, to call in 
(juestion the reputation of the greatest and best man 
of ancient Rome. But if a man was pure as snow', 
he would not escape calumny. 


186 


No. III. 

The following observations are taken from De 
La Lande’s Travels in Italy, and which occurred to 
him on visiting Liternum. 

“ Ce grand homme, vainqueur d’Annibal, de Sy- 
phax, et de Carthage, a qui les Romains avoient 
offert de le creer consul et dictateur perpetuel, etoit 
en butte a Caton, ce rig de censeur, qui n’avoit ja¬ 
mais loue personne, et qui ne cessoit d’aboyer, alia- 
trare , suivant Texpression de Tite Live—Scipion fut 
accuse de peculat: on pretendoit qu’il avoit vendu la 
paix & Antiochus; mais au lieu de se justitier, il dit 
tout haut, “ Romains c’est a pareil jour que j’ai 
vaincu Annibal, aliens en remercier les Dieux tout 
le monde le suivit, et ses accusateurs furent abandon- 
nes. Cependant Scipion indigne de cette accusation, 
se retira dans sa maison de campagne pres de Li- 
terne, oh il mourut 187 ans avant Jesus Christ. II 
y fut enterre avec le poete Ennius qu’il avoit tou- 
jours aime, et qui avoit chant6 ses victoires. On 
voyoit sur son tombeau cette inscription, ingrata 
patria nec ossa mea habebis; et Ton croit que le mot 
patria qu’on voit sur cette tour, est le reste de Tin- 
scription.” 


187 


No. IV. 

The following extract is taken from a letter of 
Seneca to Lucilius, which I give, as serving to mark 
the respect which was entertained for the character 
of Scipio in his time. 

“ I write to you, Lucilius, from the villa of Scipio 
Africanus, after rendering due homage to the manes 
and tomb of that great man, wherein I suspect his 
ashes repose. I have no doubt of his soul being re¬ 
turned to Heaven, from whence it came; and this 
opinion I hold, not because he commanded mighty 
armies, but because he possessed great moderation 
and great piety, virtues which were more to be ad¬ 
mired in him when he left his country, than when 
he defended it. 

*• That Scipio must be deprived of Rome, or Rome 
of liberty, became a matter of necessity. “ I do 
not wish (says Scipio) to lessen the respect that is 
due to the laws and constitution of my country. 
Let all its citizens enjoy equal rights. Reap, my 
countrymen, the advantage of what good I have 
done you. I have been the cause of your liberty, 
and will give you a proof of it myself. If I am 
grown greater than what is consistent with your 
safety, for your safety I will leave you.” 

“ How is it possible not to admire that magnaoi- 


188 


mity of soul, under the impression of which he went 
into voluntary banishment, for the purpose of deli¬ 
vering the city from all their apprehensions on his 
account! for when lie found that matters were come 
to such a pass, that either liberty was to offer vio¬ 
lence to Scipio, or Scipio to liberty, of which nei¬ 
ther was to be done, he yielded to the laws, and re¬ 
tired to Liternum, making his exile a subject of as 
great reproach to Rome, as was that of Hannibal's 
to Carthage. 

“ Whilst at Liternum I saw his villa, which was 
built of square stone, and surrounded by a wall that 
enclosed a wood; the wall was flanked with towers, 
that served as bulwarks on each side for its defence. 
Near the house and gardens was a cistern, sufficient 
to supply with water a whole army. I examined his 
bath, which was narrow and gloomy, after the an¬ 
cient fashion, our ancestors being of opinion, that a 
bath could not be warm enough, unless it was close. 
Here, in this sequestered spot, Scipio, (the terror 
of Carthage, and the man to whom Rome was in¬ 
debted for not being twice captured), used to bathe 
his body, after being fatigued with rustic toils. In 
this place he employed himself daily in husbandry, 
and tilled the ground with his own hands, as his 
forefathers had done before him. Under this low 
and sordid roof stood Scipio, disdaining not to tread 
its plain earthen floor. But what Roman now adays 


\ 


189 


would thus condescend to bathe 1 In this bath I 
observed some chinks, rather than windows, which 
were cut out of the stone wall, to let in the light, in 
such a way as not to injure the strength of the build¬ 
ing. Doubtless it was delightful to enter into these 
baths, dark as they were, and plastered with com¬ 
mon mortar, that might have been tempered by 
the hands of Cato when sedile, or Fabius Maximus, 
or some one of the Cornelian family. 

“ It is true, certain people might condemn Scipio 
for not admitting the sun into his baths by large 
casements, or for not scalding himself in open light, 
or for not being more anxious about having his 
meals fully digested in a bath. I pity the poor man, 
say they; he knew not how to live. He washed not 
himself in clarified water, but was content with what 
was muddy, after a heavy shower of rain. Nor did 
lie care whether he bathed so or not; for he came 
not to wash away perfumes, but sweat, the effect of 
his labour. 

“ I don’t envy Scipio, (some of our fine modern 
folks might say); he lived in exile, and had little or 
no taste for bathing. Besides, he did not bathe 
every day; for if any credit is given to those who 
have written on the ancient customs of the city, our 
ancestors used to wash only their legs and arms 
every day, which by labour had contracted dirt, 
but their entire body only once on the ninth, or 
market-day. 


/ 


/ 


• w ^ 

V-* 


190 


“ Here again some body may exclaim, Surely our 
ancestors must have been great slovens! What do 
you suppose they smelt of? I will tell you. They 
smelt of military duty, hard labour, and manly 
exercises. For my part, since the discovery of costly 
baths, I think men have become more offensive; and 
what says Horace, in speaking of such effeminate 
sparks? 

« 

Pastillos Rufillus olet, Gorgonius hircum. 



Seneca, Epist. 86. 


THE END. 



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